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The  Sylvester  Hassell  Collection 

FROM  THE   LIBRARY  OF 

Sylvester  Hassell,  D.  D. 

CLASS     OF       62 

GIVEN   BY    HIS   CHILDREN 


UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 

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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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A    SERIES    OF    NARRATIVES,    DIALOGUES,    BIOGRAPHIES,    AND    TALES, 

FOR    THE    INSTRUCTION    AND    ENTERTAINMENT 

OF    THE    YOUNG. 


JJA©@[B   ^[B©OTTa 


iratelliHJj^  tttitij 


NUMEROUS  AND  BEAUTIFUL  ENGRAVINGS. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/harpersstorybook04abbo 


Entered,  according  to  an  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  fifty-five,  by 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


This  series  of  Story  Books,  though  they  are  intended  to  be 
written  in  a  simple  and  lucid  style,  so  as  to  bring  them  within  the 
comprehension  of  all,  are  by  no  means  designed  exclusively  for 
children.  The  subjects  of  many  of  them  will  be  such  that  they 
can  only  be  appreciated  by  minds  that  have  attained  to  some  de- 
gree of  maturity,  and  are  accustomed  to  habits  of  careful  and  pa- 
tient thought. 

The  subject  of  the  present  number,  the  great  Printing  Estab- 
lishment of  the  Harpers  in  New  York,  is  one  of  this  class ;  and 
though  I  have  endeavored  to  make  my  description  sufficiently  full 
m  its  character,  and  simple  in  its  details,  to  be  intelligible  to  every 
class  of  readers,  I  have  made  no  attempt  to  bring  it  down  to  the 
capacity  of  children.  The  older  and  the  more  thoughtful  of  the 
sons  and  daughters  .of  a  family  may  derive  great  instruction  from 
the  perusal  of  it,  especially  if  they  are  assisted  by  the  explanations 
of  the  father  and  mother  as  they  read,  but  the  younger  ones  must 
expect  to  find  it  above  their  reach.  They  had  their  turn  in  the 
Story  of  Timboo  and  Fanny. 
^o  I  have  taken  great  pains  to  make  all  the  statements  contained 

^        in  the  work  in  respect  to  all  the  structures,  machines,  and  process- 
<r  f 


Yin  PREFACE. 

es  described  strictly  exact,  so  that  gentlemen  in  the  interior  of  the 
country,  who  take  a  practical  interest  in  subjects  connected  with 
mechanical  science,  may  rely  on  the  correctness  and  accuracy  of 
the  information  which  this  account  furnishes.  In  these  efforts  I 
have  been  greatly  assisted  by  the  various  gentlemen  who  have  had 
the  charge  of  the  several  portions  of  the  work  of  constructing  the 
edifice,  as  well  as  those  who  are  now  employed  as  overseers  in  the 
different  processes  of  manufacture.  I  have  been  especially  indebt- 
ed to  the  following  named  persons  not  only  for  information  ob- 
tained from  them,  in  the  first  instance,  in  respect  to  the  various 
branches  to  which  their  responsibility  extends,  but  also  for  their 
assistance  in  the  careful  revision  of  my  descriptions  and  state- 
ments after  they  were  written  : 

James  Bogardus,  Engineer,  constructor  of  the  iron  front  of  the 
building. 

John  B.  Corlies,  Architect  and  Builder. 

James  L.  Jackson,  designer  and  manufacturer  of  the  iron  col- 
umns and  girders. 

Abram  S.  Hewitt,  of  the  firm  of  Cooper  &  Hewitt,  manufac- 
turers of  the  iron  beams. 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OP    THE    EDIFICE     13 

II.     THE    FIRE-PROOP    FLOORS 25 

III.    MANUFACTURE    OF    THE    IRON  BEAMS 32 

IV.     INTERIOR     OF    THE    CLIFF     STREET    BUILDING     41 

V.    THE    COURT-YARD 50 

VI.    COMPOSITION 54 

VII.    PROOFS    AND    CORRECTING 69 

VIII.    TYPE-FOUNDING    74 

IX.    MOULDS    FOR    TYPE-FOUNDING , 85 

X.     ELECTROTYPING 96 

XI.    ENGRAVINGS 103 

XII.    THE    PRESS 115 

XIII.  DRYING    AND    PRESSING    THE    SHEETS 123 

XIV.  FORWARDING 130 

XV.    MARBLING 135 

XVI.     FINISHING 145 

XVII.    THE    DISTRIBUTION 156 


ENGRAVINGS. 


PACE 

franklin  square  front Frontispiece. 

THE    COUNTING-ROOM     16 

THE    PLAN 21 

VIEW    OF    CLIFF    STREET    FRONT 24 

MECHANISM     OF    THE    FLOORS 28 

SECTIONAL    VIEW    OF    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING 42 

INTERIOR    OF    THE    COURT-YARD • 51 

TYPE    OF    A    LETTER    54 

TYPES    SET    UP 55 

COMPOSING-STICK 56 

THE    CASE 56 

FRANKLIN 63 

FORMS 66 

THE    ROLLER    , 68 

THE    BALLS 68 

CASTING * 77 

THE    JET , 79 

THE    DRESSER 83 

THE    MATRICE 86 

THE    PUNCHES 87 

SPECIMEN    OF    SCRIPT    TYPE 93 

SPECIMENS    OF    BORDERS    AND   FANCY    TYPE 94 

BLOCKING    THE    PLATE 97 

THE    VAULTS     101 

COPPER-PLATE    PRINTING    105 

THE    DESIGN , 109 

THE    STUDIO 112 

THE    HAND-PRESS 116 

f 


Xll  EMUKAV1NGS. 

PAGE 

franklin's  press 118 

the  power-press .- 120 

the  drying-room 125 

hydraulic  presses 126 

stabbing 131 

the  sawing  machine 132 

the  cutting  machine 134 

the   marbling-room «136 

sprinkling  the  colors 138 

burnishing 143 

GILDING 147 

EMBOSSING    PRESSES 151 

THE    FINISHING-ROOM 155 

THE    STOCK-ROOM 157 

THE    MAGAZINE    CORNER 159 


THE 


HARPER  ESTABLISHMENT, 


CHAPTER  I. 

GENERAL  STRUCTURE   OF  THE  EDIFICE. 


Situation  of  the  Harper  Buildings.  The  Franklin  Square  front. 

rTIHE  buildings  of  the  Harper  Establishment  are  situated  in  New 
-*-  York,  on  Cliff  Street  and  Franklin  Square.  The  establish- 
ment covers  about  half  an  acre  of  ground,  and  consists  chiefly  of 
two  blocks  of  buildings,  one  fronting  on  Cliff  Street,  and  the  other 
fronting  on  Franklin  Square,  with  a  court  between.  The  two 
blocks  of  buildings  are  united,  and  made,  as  it  were,  one,  by  a  se- 
ries of  iron  bridges  connecting;  the  various  stories  of  the  two  blocks 
with  each  other  and  with  a  large  circular  tower  in  the  court,  which 
contains  the  common  stairway  for  the  whole  establishment.  The 
edifice  is  constructed  almost  exclusively  of  stone,  brick,  and  iron, 
and  is  as  perfectly  fire-proof  as  the  present  state  of  architectural 
science  and  art  can  make  it. 

The  frontispiece  represents  that  portion  of  the  building  which 
fronts  on  Franklin  Square.  It  is  five  stones  in  height,  with  a 
cellar  and  sub-cellar  below,  making  seven  floors  in  all.  The  front 
is  built  wholly  of  iron.  It  consists  in  each  story  of  twenty-one 
Corinthian  columns,  with  lofty  windows  filling  the  intercolumni- 


14  UENEKAL   STKUCTUKE    OF   THE    EDIFICE. 

Statues.  The  court-yard.  Cellars.  Stores. 

ations.  Each  range  of  columns  supports  the  bases  of  the  range 
above,  and  thus  they  rise,  tier  above  tier,  to  the  topmost  story. 

Over  the  entrance-door  is  ^a  full  length  statue  of  Benjamin 
Franklin  in  iron.  Between  the  windows  of  the  fifth  story,  too,  is 
a  row  of  smaller  statues  of  Washington,  Franklin,  and  Jefferson. 
Above  them  is  the  cornice  of  the  roof,  supported  by  massive  truss- 
es. There  is  no  entrance  in  the  front  of  the  building  for  the  re- 
ceipt and  delivery  of  goods.  The  place  for  this  business  is  in  the 
court-yard  between  the  two  buildings,  which  is  entered  by  a  pas- 
sage-way from  Cliff  Street.  Thus  the  front  of  the  building  is  nev- 
er encumbered  with  carts  or  drays  coming  to  or  leaving  the  estab- 
lishment, nor  are  the  sidewalks  obstructed  with  bundles  of  paper 
or  boxes  of  books. 

There  are  two  cellars  under  this  block,  one  of  which  is,  howev- 
er, entirely  out  of  ground  on  the  back  side,  where  it  fronts  the 
court-yard.  The  depth  of  the  foundation  of  the  edifice  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  fact  that  the  floor  of  the  lowermost  cellar  is  twen- 
ty-two feet  below  the  sidewalk.  A  large  portion  of  the  space  in 
these  cellars  is  used  for  the  storage  of  paper.  This  paper  is  taken 
across,  as  fast  as  it  is  wanted,  into  the  lower  stories  of  the  build- 
ing on  Cliff  Street  by  a  subterranean  railway  under  the  court. 
This  will  be  more  particularly  explained  by-and-by,  when  we  come 
to  the  engraving  of  the  court-yard. 

There  are  no  staircases  leading  from  one  story  to  another  in  ei- 
ther of  the  buildings  within  the  walls,  but  there  is  one  common 
staircase  for  the  whole  establishment  in  the  round  tower  already 
mentioned,  which  has  been  built  for  the  purpose  in  the  court-yard. 


GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OP    THE    EDIFICE.  15 

No  staircases  within  the  buildings.  The  counting-room. 

Thus  the  several  floors  of  the  buildings  are  continuous  and  entire 
throughout.  This  construction  is  adopted  as  a  safeguard  against 
fire ;  for,  as  there  are  no  openings  through  the  floors,  and  as  the 
floors  them  selves  are  built  of  brick  and  iron,  and  are  thus  com- 
pletely fire-proof,  no  fire  can  be  communicated  through  them  in 
any  way.  The  staircase  in  the  tower  is  connected  with  each 
story  of  both  buildings  by  iron  bridges,  and  is  found  to  be  amply 
sufficient  for  all  purposes.  This,  also,  will  be  particularly  ex- 
plained when  we  come  to  the  history  of  the  court-yard. 

Thus,  with  the  exception  of  the  great  staircase  ascending  from 
the  entrance-door  in  front  to  the  counting-room,  which  will  present- 
ly be  described,  all  the  floors  are  continuous  throughout — of  solid 
brick  and  iron — and  thus  the  spread  of  fire  among  the  contents  of 
the  buildings  from  floor  to  floor  is  rendered  impossible.  There  is, 
indeed,  nothing  but  the  contents  of  the  buildings  that  can  burn, 
for  the  edifices  themselves  are  constructed,  almost  without  excep- 
tion, of  materials  entirely  incombustible. 

The  height  of  the  stories,  and  the  general  magnitude  of  the  scale 
on  which  the  whole  building  is  constructed,  may  be  appreciated  by 
comparing  the  edifice  with  the  ordinary  four  and  five  story  build- 
ings on  each  side  of  it  in  the  engraving.  The  general  counting- 
room  is  in  the  centre  of  the  building  on  this  front,  in  the  first  story 
above  the  principal  basement.  The  access  to  it  is  by  a  very  broad 
staircase — twelve  feet  wide — ascending  from  the  centre  door.  You 
will  see  the  top  of  this  staircase,  and  the  interior  of  the  great  count- 
ing-room into  which  it  opens,  in  the  engraving  on  the  next  page. 
Besides  the  counting-room,  this  building  contains  the  stock  and 

f 


16 


CIENEKAL    STRUCTURE    OF    THE    EDIFICE. 


View  of  the  interior  of  the  counting-room. 


GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OF    THE    EDIFICE.  17 

View  of  the  counting-room.  The  four  brothers  Harper. 

stores  of  the  establishment,  consisting  of  vast  quantities  of  pa- 
per and  other  materials  in  the  cellars  and  on  the  lower  floors,  and 
books  by  hundreds  of  thousands  in  the  various  stages  of  manufac- 
turing stock  in  the  stories  above.  The  extent  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  these  vast  magazines  will  be  hereafter  described. 

The  engraving  on  the  opposite  page  represents  the  counting- 
room.  The  view  is  taken  from  the  back  side  of  the  room,  looking 
forward.  The  staircase  is  seen  in  the  centre,  coming  up  from  the 
great  door  on  the  Franklin  Square  front,  as  seen  in  the  frontispiece. 
We  see  a  person  just  ascending  the  stairs,  near  the  top.  The  three 
other  sides  of  the  opening  through  which  the  stairs  come  up  are 
inclosed  by  a  strong  and  ornamental  balustrade. 

In  the  background  of  the  picture,  which  represents,  of  course, 
the  front  side  of  the  room,  there  is  a  rectangular  space,  about  forty 
feet  by  fifteen,  inclosed  by  a  railing,  which  may  be  considered  the 
counting-room  proper.  Here  are  the  desks  and  seats  of  the  pro- 
prietors of  the  establishment,  with  sofas  and  chairs  along  the  sides 
of  the  inclosure  for  visitors,  or  persons  having  business  with  the 
proprietors  personally.  This  area  is  the  constant  resort  of  book- 
sellers, authors,  artists,  travelers,  and  persons  of  distinction  from 
every  part  of  the  United  States,  and,  indeed,  from  all  quarters  of 
the  world.  The  four  brothers  Harper,  the  original  founders  and 
present  proprietors  of  the  establishment,  are  almost  always  to  be 
seen  here,  engaged  in  their  various  duties,  such  as  receiving  re- 
ports and  listening  to  inquiries  from  the  various  mechanical  de- 
partments, issuing  orders,  answering  questions,  holding  consulta- 
tions, considering  new  projects,  waiting  upon  authors  who  come 
in  B         f 


18  GENERAL   STRUCTURE   OF   THE    EDIFICE. 

Business  of  the  counting-room.  The  furnishing  of  it. 

to  offer  manuscripts,  and  artists  who  bring  in  drawings  or  engrav- 
ings, and  in  other  like  occupations.  It  is  an  animated  and  busy 
scene,  though  the  arrangements  are  so  complete  and  convenient, 
and  the  space  so  ample,  that  there  is  no  bustle  or  confusion.  A 
Vast  deal  of  very  important  business  is  transacted  here,  and  often 
by  men  of  high  distinction  both  in  the  literary  and  business  world ; 
but  it  is  transacted  with  few  words,  and  in  a  very  prompt  and  de- 
cisive, though  very  quiet  manner. 

Without  the  railing,  on  each  side  of  the  staircase,  are  several 
desks.  Four  of  these  are  seen  in  the  engraving.  They  are  placed 
so  as  to  face  toward  the  centre  of  the  room.  They  are  occupied 
for  the  various  departments  connected  with  the  book-keeping  and 
accounts,  and  for  business  connected  with  the  city  trade.  Beyond 
these,  and  still  nearer  to  the  foreground,  are  other  appointments  and 
fixtures.  On  the  right  are  cases  for  exhibiting  samples  of  books. 
There  are  two  of  these  cases  in  different  positions.  One  stands 
with  its  front  toward  us,  showing  us  the  books  which  it  contains. 
The  other  has  its  back  toward  us.  We  see  a  lady  and  two  gen- 
tlemen standing  by  it,  examining  the  books.  A  clerk  stands  near 
one  of  the  gentlemen,  and  seems  to  be  conversing  with  him.  On 
the  left  we  see  a  large  iron  safe. 

The  cases  above  referred  to  are  only  intended  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  specimens  of  the  books  which  the  house  publish,  as  a 
guide  to  booksellers  and  others  in  making  up  their  orders ;  for 
very  little  retail  business  is  done  at  this  establishment — none,  in 
fact,  except  as  a  matter  of  convenience  and  courtesy  to  individual 
purchasers.      The  business  of  the  house  is  almost  exclusively  the 


GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OF  THE    EDIFICE.  19 


Immense  quantities  of  books  in  store. 


publishing  of  books  to  be  sold  in  quantities  to  booksellers.  The 
general  stock,  therefore,  does  not  consist  of  individual  copies  of 
books  arranged  on  shelves  as  in  a  library,  as  is  usual  in  ordinary 
book-stores,  but  of  quantities  packed  in  bins,  with  specimens  only 
in  the  show-cases  below.  We  see  a  portion  of  these  bins  on  what 
seems  to  be  the  side  of  the  room  on  the  right.  It  is  not  really 
the  side  of  the  room,  however,  which  appears  in  the  engraving, 
but  only  a  double  block  or  tier  of  bins  built  up  from  the  floor  to 
the  ceiling,  to  furnish  receptacles  for  the  books.  This  block  of 
bins  is  two  stories  high,  as  seen  in  the  engraving.  Access  to  the 
upper  story  is  obtained  by  means  of  a  gallery,  which  extends  along 
the  whole  length  of  the  block.  We  see  men  upon  this  gallery 
bringing  books  down  to  be  packed  and  sent  away.  There  are  two 
openings  like  wide  doorways  through  this  construction  to  another 
part  of  the  room,  which  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  bins.  On 
the  left-hand  side  of  the  room  the  arrangement  is  the  same,  though 
it  is  not  shown  in  the  engraving.  Indeed,  only  about  three  quar- 
ters of  the  length  of  the  apartment  itself  is  shown,  there  being  the 
same  space  between  the  range  of  columns  on  the  left  and  the  range 
of  bins  forming  the  partition,  that  there  is  on  the  right,  though 
this  space  in  the  engraving  is  cut  off  on  the  left  side.  This  space 
is  twenty  feet,  and  the  whole  length  of  the  part  of  this  floor  of  the 
building  which  is  inclosed  between  the  two  ranges  of  bins  is  eigh- 
ty feet.  The  depth  of  the  apartment  from  front  to  back  is  seven- 
ty-five feet.  Beyond,  on  both  sides,  are  wings,  which  are  entered 
through  the  openings  in  the  ranges  of  bins  above  described,  and 
which  extend,  including  the  depth  of  the  bins,  about  twenty-five 

f 


20  GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OF    THE    EDIFICE. 

The  sales-room.  Boxes  and  bundles.  The  plan. 

feet  farther,  making  the  whole  front  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet. 
There  are  four  openings  leading  to  these  wings,  two  on  each  side. 
The  number  of  bins  on  both  sides  of  this  great  hall,  including 
those  within  the  two  inner  compartments,  is  about  one  thousand, 
and  each  one  is  of  sufficient  capacity  to  hold  nearly  one  thousand 
ordinary  duodecimo  volumes. 

The  back  part  of  the  room,  a  small  portion  of  which  only  is 
seen  in  the  foreground  of  the  engraving,  is  occupied  for  the  purpose 
of  filling  orders  for  books,  packing  the  books  in  boxes  and  bundles, 
mailing  the  subscribers'  copies  of  the  Magazine  and  Story  Books, 
keeping  sundry  accounts,  and  other  similar  purposes.  It  is  from 
this  place  that  the  vast  issues  from  the  establishment  are  daily 
made.  The  boxes  and  bundles  are  wheeled,  when  made  up,  out 
through  a  door  in  the  rear  of  this  part  of  the  room,  which  conducts 
across  the  court  by  an  iron  bridge  to  the  hoist-way,  where  the 
steam-engine  takes  them,  and  lets  them  gently  down  to  the  cart  or 
wagon  waiting  in  the  court  below.  We  shall  see  the  arrangement 
of  this  mechanism  more  particularly  when  we  come  to  the  court. 
But  the  relative  position  of  the  packing-rooms,  the  bridge,  and  the 
hoisting,  will  be  seen  on  the  plan  on  the  adjoining  page. 

The  plan  represents  the  first  or  principal  floor  of  each  building, 
namely,  the  publishing  and  counting-rooms  of  the  Franklin  Square 
building,  and  the  great  press-room  in  the  Cliff  Street  building. 
The  former  is  on  the  right,  as  seen  in  the  engraving ;  the  other 
on  the  left. 

At  the  extreme  right  of  the  Franklin  Square  room  is  seen  the 
counting-room,  between  the  head  of  the  staircase  and  the  front  of 


GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OF    THE    EDIFICE. 


21 


22  GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OF    THE    EDIFICE. 

General  arrangements  of  the  salesroom. 

the  building.  The  desks  and  other  furniture  are  represented  on 
the  plan.  There  are  two  entrances  to  the  inclosure,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  great  staircase,  and  the  space  itself  is  only  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  apartment  by  a  railing,  as  shown  in  the  per- 
spective view  on  a  previous  page. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  staircase,  toward  the  centre  of  the 
apartment,  is  the  area  marked  C,  which  is  appropriated  to  the 
city  trade.  It  is  very  convenient  for  this  purpose,  being  easily  ac- 
cessible from  the  entrance  to  the  building.  The  area  is  partially 
inclosed  by  desks,  safes,  counters  or  cases  for  the  exhibition  of 
samples  of  books,  and  other  similar  furniture.  These  objects  are 
represented  in  the  plan,  but  they  can  be  seen  still  more  distinctly 
in  the  perspective  view. 

At  the  back  side  of  the  room,  near  the  centre,  is  the  area  mark- 
ed F,  devoted  to  the  business  of  receiving  and  answering  foreign 
orders.  Here  are  large  tables  for  assembling  and  packing  books, 
and  desks  for  keeping  the  accounts,  and  trucks  for  drawing  away 
the  boxes  and  packages,  when  they  are  made  up,  to  the  door  lead- 
ing to  the  hoist-way,  which  is  close  at  hand.  There  are  two  doors, 
indeed,  leading  to  the  court,  near  this  part  of  the  building.  One 
opens  upon  the  bridge  that  conducts  to  the  hoist-way,  the  other 
to  the  one  that  leads  to  the  staircase  in  the  round  tower,  and  thus 
to  all  parts  of  the  Cliff  Street  building.  These  two  bridges  are 
seen  in  the  plan. 

To  the  right  of  the  space  devoted  to  the  foreign  trade,  looking 
toward  the  back  side  of  the  room,  is  another  inclosure,  marked 
M  on  the  plan,  which  is  appropriated  to  the  work  of  mailing  peri- 


GENERAL    STRUCTURE    OF    THE    EDIFICE.  23 

Ranges  of  bins.  Plan  of  the  court.  The  great  press-room. 

oclicals.      The  great  lousiness  at  this  place  is,  of  course,  the  mail- 
ing of  the  subscribers'  copies  of  the  Magazine. 

On  the  north  and  south  sides  of  the  apartment  may  be  seen  the 
ranges  of  bins,  marked  B,  B,  B  on  the  plan,  surrounding  two  in- 
closures  of  the  form  of  wings.  These  bins  consist  of  ranges  of 
very  strong  shelving,  about  five  feet  deep,  separated  by  a  solid 
brick  wall,  which  forms  the  back  of  the  rows  of  bins.  The  parti- 
tions extend  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling.  The  upper  tiers  are 
reached  by  galleries,  as  seen  in  the  perspective  view.  The  open 
court,  marked  in  the  plan,  is  accessible  by  carts  through  an  arched 
passage-way  in  Cliff  Street.  This  passage-way  is  not  shown  on 
this  plan,  being  on  the  story  below  the  one  here  represented.  The 
two  walls  inclosing  it  are,  however,  seen  at  the  end  of  the  Cliff 
Street  building.  The  position  of  two  of  the  bridges,  the  hoist- 
way,  H,  the  circular  tower,  the  great  square  chimney,  c,  as  well  as 
of  the  glass  roof  that  covers  the  boiler-room,  are  shown  in  the  plan. 
A  perspective  view  of  this  court-yard,  with  a  more  fall  account  of 
the  various  objects  which  it  contains,  will  be  given  in  a  subsequent 
chapter. 

The  plan  shows  the  arrangement  of  the  presses  in  the  great 
press-room  of  the  Cliff  Street  building.  This  room  is  on  the  prin- 
cipal story,  that  is,  the  first  above  the  basement.  The  other  floors 
of  this  building  are  all  appropriated  to  the  various  mechanical  op- 
erations connected  with  the  printing  and  binding  of  books.  They 
will  be  described  hereafter.  In  the  mean  time,  a  view  of  the  front 
of  this  portion  of  the  edifice  is  given  on  the  next  page.  The  open- 
ing where  we  see  the  cart  going  in  is  the  entrance  to  the  court. 

f 


24 


GENERAL   STRUCTURE   OF   THE   EDIFICE. 


View  of  the  front  on  Cliff  Street. 


VIEW   OP    THE    CLIFF    STREET    FROST. 


THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS.  25 


Difficulty  of  making  large  buildings  fire-proof. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS. 

The  great  difficulty  in  the  construction  of  fire-proof  buildings 
is  the  work  of  making  the  floors.  Walls  may  easily  be  built  of 
brick  or  stone,  but  wood  alone  has  been  considered  hitherto,  until 
within  comparatively  a  short  time,  almost  essential  for  floors ; 
since  for  floors,  which  must  necessarily,  to  so  great  an  extent,  sus- 
tain themselves,  with  as  little  support  as  possible  from  below,  there 
is  required  a  degree  of  strength  and  lightness  combined  which  has 
hitherto  been  found  to  exist  in  no  other  material. 

It  is  true  that  architects  have  long  been  accustomed  to  build 
floors  of  brick  or  stone  by  supporting  them  on  arches,  which  rest 
on  columns  or  walls  in  the  room  below ;  but  these  arches,  on  any 
mode  of  construction  heretofore  adopted — at  least  until  within  a 
few  years— have  required  columns  or  walls  to  support  them  so 
massive  and  solid,  that  the  room  below  was  necessarily  encumber- 
ed with  obstructions,  and  made,  indeed,  almost  useless,  in  order  to 
furnish  support  for  the  floors  of  the  rooms  above.  We  see  this 
construction  in  the  basement  stories  of  the  old  and  central  portions 
of  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  the  New  York  Exchange,  and  in 
such  buildings  as  the  Pantheon  in  Paris.  In  all  these  and  simi- 
lar buildings,  the  basement  story  is  rendered  dark,  and  gloomy, 
and  dungeon-like  by  the  immense  number  and  massive  forms  of 
the  walls,  piers,  columns,  and  groined  and  vaulted  arches,  necessary 


26  THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS. 

Floors  of  masonry  in  churches.  Requirements  of  modern  buildings. 

to  support  the  floor  of  the  principal  story  above.  Then,  again, 
above  this  principal  story,  in  such  buildings,  there  could  be  usual- 
ly nothing ;  for  the  rooms  in  it,  if  large,  as  in  most  cases  they 
must  necessarily  be,  could  only  be  kept  free  from  obstructions  sim- 
ilar to  those  below  by  some  vast  roof  or  dome  for  a  covering,  con- 
structed at  great  expense,  and  rising  necessarily  so  high  as  to  pre- 
clude the  possibility  of  having  any  useful  apartments  above  it. 

All  this,  however,  was  of  no  very  serious  consequence  in  the 
case  of  churches,  and  other  similar  structures,  where  the  dungeon- 
like basement  might  be  used  as  a  crypt  for  tombs  and  other  such 
purposes,  and  where,  also,  the  very  nature  of  the  edifice  required 
that  all  the  space  above  the  principal  floor  should  be  occupied  as 
one  story.  It  was  very  different,  however,  with  such  buildings  as 
are  required  for  the  practical  purposes  of  modern  mechanical  arts. 
In  these  cases,  what  is  necessary  is  to  divide  the  whole  height  of 
the  building — fifty  or  eighty  feet,  perhaps— into  many  distinct  sto- 
ries by  floors  made  as  thin  as  possible,  so  as  to  economize  space, 
and  each  self-sustaining,  so  as  not  to  encumber  the  story  below  it 
with  supports.  To  do  this  with  wood  has  been  easy.  But  wood 
is  highly  combustible.  How  to  do  it  with  any  incombustible  ma- 
terial has  long  been  a  great  desideratum.  The  object  was  at  length 
finally  accomplished,  and  the  first  successful  construction  by  the 
new  method,  as  at  length  perfected,  is  the  edifice  we  are  describing. 
Indeed,  it  was  in  the  construction  of  this  edifice  that  the  method 
was  perfected. 

If  the  reader  will  turn  back  to  the  engraving  of  the  counting- 
room  in  page  16,  and  look  up  to  the  ceiling,  he  will  readily  under- 


THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS.  27 

General  arrangement  of  the  columns  and  girders. 

stand  the  mechanism  of  these  floors,  for  the  whole  structure  is  there 
almost  entirely  exposed  to  view.  You  observe  three  rows  of  col- 
umns extending  through  the  room  from  front  to  back.  These 
columns  support  a  range  of  ornamental  girders,  the  mechanism  of 
which  will  be  hereafter  explained.  Each  one  is  essentially  a  cast 
iron  arch,  the  lower  ends  of  which  are  connected  by  a  rod  of  wrought 
iron.  The  form  of  it  may  be  likened  to  a  bow  of  cast  iron,  with  a 
wrought  iron  string.  Upon  the  girders,  and  extending  from  one 
row  of  pillars  to  the  other,  there  rest  the  ends  of  a  range  of  wrought 
iron  beams.  The  double  lines  seen  in  the  engraving  in  the  ceiling, 
running  from  left  to  right,  from  one  range  of  columns  to  another, 
represent  the  lower  edges  of  these  beams.  The  beams  themselves, 
by  means  of  broad  flanges  wrought  on  the  lower  side  of  them,  sup- 
port a  series  of  flat  brick  arches,  which  extend  from  one  to  another 
of  them,  and  thus  furnish  a  continued  bearing  for  the  flooring 
above.  The  upper  surface  of  the  arches,  when  the  masonry  was 
completed,  was  leveled  by  filling  up  the  spandrels  with  grouting, 
strips  for  nailing  the  floor-boards  to  having  been  previously  laid 
for  the  purpose,  and  then  the  whole  was  covered  with  a  wooden 
floor. 

Thus  the  whole  structure  consists  simply  of  a  series  of  long, 
narrow,  flat  brick  arches,  supported  by  wrought  iron  beams,  the 
ends  of  the  beams  being  supported  in  their  turn  by  girders  of 
wrought  and  cast  iron,  and  these  by  a  range  of  cast  iron  columns, 
supported  by  a  similar  range  in  the  story  below. 

The  whole  system  is  accurately  represented  in  the  following- 
drawing. 

"f 


•is 


THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS; 


Explanation  of  the  mechanism  of  the  fire-proof  floors. 


MECHANISM    OF    THE    FLOORS. 


The  round  rod  connecting  the  ends  of  the  girders  is  the  tension- 
rod.  It  is  of  wrought  iron.  It  acts  as  a  tie-beam  to  prevent  the 
two  ends  of  the  girder  from  spreading  by  the  pressure  of  the 
weight  on  the  arches  above.  These  rods  are  two  and  a  half  inches 
in  diameter.  The  whole  mass  of  iron  lying  between  the  tension- 
rod  and  the  range  of  arches  above  forms  the  body  of  the  girder, 
and  is  cast  in  two  parts,  one  for  each  side,  the  line  of  division  be- 
ing at  the  centre.  These  parts  correspond  in  their  function  to  the 
•rafters  of  a  roof,  while  the  tension-rod  answers  to  the  tie-beam. 
The  tendency  of  the  weight  resting  on  the  floors  above  is  to  crowd 
the  centre  ends  together,  and  to  force  the  lower  ends  of  the  gird- 


THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS.  29 

Operation  and  effect  of  the  tension-rods.  Ornamented  pattern  of  the  girders 

er  apart,  thus  bringing  a  heavy  lateral  strain  upon  the  tension-rod. 
Indeed,  it  is  on  the  power  of  the  tension-rod  to  resist  this  strain 
that  the  whole  security  of  the  structure  depends. 

Were  it  not  for  the  action  of  these  tension-rods,  the  lateral 
thrust,  as  it  is  termed,  of  the  girders — that  is,  the  tendency  to 
spread  at  the  base,  in  consequence  of  the  pressure  of  the  weight 
above,  would  come  upon  the  heads  of  the  columns,  and  thence 
would  be  communicated  from  girder  to  girder  to  the  sides  or  ends 
of  the  building,  being  increased  in  its  passage  by  the  lateral  thrust 
of  all  the  girders  in  the  line.  This  would  produce  a  pressure 
against  the  walls  of  the  building  which  it  would  require  an  enor- 
mous thickness  of  the  walls  to  resist.  As  it  is,  each  tension-rod 
counteracts  the  lateral  thrust  of  its  own  girder,  and  thus  every 
thing  is  independent  and  self-sustaining. 

The  cast  iron  part  of  the  girder  appears  somewhat  complicated 
in  its  form,  but  it  is  very  simple  in  its  functions,  which  is,  in  fact, 
precisely  that  of  a  pair  of  rafters  in  a  common  roof.  As  to  its 
form,  any  intelligent  mechanic  whose  attention  may  be  attracted 
to  this  drawing  will  observe  that  the  leading  outlines  of  the  form 
are  determined  by  the  necessity  of  increasing  the  strength  and 
thickness  of  the  iron  in  those  parts  of  the  girder  where  the  great 
strains  would  come.  The  pattern  is  ornamented,  too,  with  great 
judgment  and  taste.  These  ornaments  are,  on  the  whole,  not  ex- 
pensive, since,  as  the  girders  are  cast,  and  a  great  number  are  thus 
formed  from  one  pattern,  the  expense  of  carving  the  pattern  is 
widely  distributed. 

The  girders  are  of  different  sizes  in  different  parts  of  the  build 

/' 


30  THE    EiKE-PKOOF    FLOOES. 

Construction  of  the  arches.  They  were  laid  dry  and  grouted. 

ings,  on  account  of  the  different  distances  of  the  ranges  of  columns 
that  support  them.  They  vary  from  five  hundred  and  forty  pounds 
to  eight  hundred  and  sixty  each  for  the  cast  iron  part.  The  ten- 
sion-rods weigh  about  two  hundred  and  forty  pounds  each. 

But  let  us  now  return  to  the  drawing.  Above  the  girders,  and 
resting  upon  the  iron  beams,  the  ends  of  which  are  seen  represent- 
ed black  in  the  drawing,  are  the  brick  arches.  These  arches  are 
about  four  feet  span,  that  being  the  distance  of  the  beams  from 
each  other,  and  are  four  inches  thick.  They  extend,  of  course,  in 
length,  from  one  range  of  columns  to  another,  usually  from  eight- 
een to  twenty  feet.  The  form  of  the  beams  is  seen  in  the  section 
shown  in  the  engraving.  The  ends  rest  in  chairs,  which  are  cast 
upon  the  upper  side  of  the  girder.  The  form  and  position  of  these 
chairs,  and  the  manner  in  which  the  ends  of  the  beams  rest  in 
them,  is  also  shown  in  the  engraving. 

In  building  the  arches,  the  bricks  were  not  laid  in  mortar,  but 
Avere  placed  in  their  positions  dry,  and  then  grouted  with  hydraulic 
cement.*  For  this  purpose,  water-tight  centres  were  made  to  sup- 
port the  bricks  below  while  the  arch  was  in  process  of  building, 
and  then  the  grouting  was  poured  between  the  bricks.  When  the 
arches  were  completed,  the  spandrels  were  filled  up  with  concrete 
to  the  level  of  the  crown  of  the  arch,  and  then  a  floor  of  narrow 
yellow-pine  plank,  one  inch  and  a  quarter  thick,  was  laid  over  the 
whole.     The  planks  of  the  floor  are  tongued  and  grooved  together, 

*  Grouting  is  the  process  of  pouring  liquid  mortar  into  a  mass  of  masonry  pre- 
viously laid  dry,  so  as  to  fill  the  interstices,  and  to  cement  the  whole  into  one  solid 
mass 


THE    FIRE-PROOF    FLOORS.  31 

The  floors.  Object  of  the  plank  lining.  Great  weight  on  the  floors. 

and  blind-nailed,  in  the  best  manner,  to  strips  of  wood  laid  previ- 
ously in  the  concrete.  The  ends  of  these  strips  are  seen  in  the 
drawing,  by  the  side  of  the  ends  of  the  iron  beams.  They  are 
dovetailed  into  the  concrete,  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  their  ris- 
ing;. 

The  floors  are  thus  lined  with  wood,  with  a  view  to  the  health 
and  comfort  of  the  persons  employed  in  the  establishment.  A 
wooden  surface  is  found  to  be  much  more  convenient  and  agreea- 
ble to  the  tread  than  any  that  can  be  formed  of  masonry  or  metal. 
A  surface  of  brick  or  stone,  too,  by  keeping  the  feet  cold,  exerts  an 
injurious  influence  on  the  health,  and  makes  the  persons  who  use 
it,  especially  if  they  sit  much  at  their  work,  always  uncomfortable. 
These  plank  floors  may,  indeed,  be  considered  as  a  wooden  carpet 
laid  over  the  brick  floors. 

It  was  necessary  that  the  floors  for  an  edifice  destined  to  such 
purposes  as  this  should  possess  great  strength.  In  one  room,  for 
example,  the  floor  is  loaded  with  a  weight  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  tons  of  presses.  In  the  paper-room  the  weight  is  still  great- 
er, there  being  sometimes  nearly  twenty  tons  of  paper  on  a  space 
ten  feet  square.  Paper,  when  lying  in  compact  masses,  is  exceed- 
ingly heavy.  It  weighs  about  thirty-five  pounds  to  the  cubic  foot. 
The  floors,  however,  are  calculated  to  bear  a  burden  of  from  three 
hundred  to  five  hundred  pounds  to  the  square  foot ;  that  is,  they 
would  be  probably  safe  for  five  hundred,  but  are  absolutely  certain 
for  three  hundred.  This  would  allow  of  covering  the  floor  all  over 
with  stacks  of  paper  ten  feet  high,  or  to  fill  the  room  full  of  men 
as  close  as  they  could  stand,  in  three  or  four  tiers,  one  over  the 

r 


32  MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS. 

Statistics  of  the  fire-proof  flooring.  Manufacture  of  the  beams. 

other.      Indeed,  some  engineers  have  considered  that  the  construc- 
tion has  been  made  unnecessarily  strong. 

I  was  somewhat  surprised,  on  making  a  calculation  with  the 
architect,  at  the  statistics  of  this  fire-proof  flooring.  The  number 
of  cast  iron  columns  and  girders — similar  to  those  shown  in  the 
drawing  of  the  counting-room — in  both  parts  of  the  edifice,  is  over 
two  hundred  and  fifty.  This,  too,  does  not  include  the  eighty  ex- 
terior columns  in  the  front  of  the  building  on  Franklin  Square. 
The  number  of  brick  arches,  averaging  about  four  feet  span,  and 
fifteen  feet  in  length  from  girder  to  girder,  with  wrought  iron  beams 
to  support  them,  is  about  two  thousand,  and  the  whole  area  of 
floors  thus  supported  in  the  different  stories  is  between  two  and 
three  acres.  Let  a  farmer  in  the  country  select  from  among  his 
fields  a  two  and  a  half  acre  lot,  and  imagine  the  whole  surface  of 
it  floored  over,  at  a  height  of  twelve  feet  above  the  ground,  with  a 
series  of  brick  arches,  supported  by  two  hundred  and  fifty  cast 
iron  columns  below,  and  covered  above  with  a  very  close  and  com- 
pact yellow-pine  floor,  and  he  will  have  some  idea  of  the  magnitude 
of  the  scale  on  which  this  vast  structure  is  planned. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS. 

The  construction  of  the  floors  described  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter, by  means  of  wrought  iron  beams,  and  by  light  segmental 
arches  tin-own  from  beam  to  beam,  is  a  very  important  feature  in 
the  construction  of  these  edifices.      It  is  novel  also,  these  edifices 


MANUFACTUKE  OF  THE  IEON  BEAMS.  33 

Great  loss  of  property  by  fire.  Essential  requisites  of  a  beam. 


being  the  first  in  which  the  principle  has  been  thoroughly  tested. 
The  nature  and  character  of  these  beams,  therefore,  and  the  mode 
by  which  they  are  manufactured,  deserves  especial  notice,  partic- 
ularly on  account  of  the  economy  which  they  are  the  means  of 
introducing  in  the  structure  of  lire-proof  buildings,  both  in  respect 
to  the  cost,  and  to  the  space  which  the  floors  occupy. 

It  is  no  new  thing  to  build  a  fire-proof  structure,  but  it  is  a 
new  thing  to  build  one  at  a  cost  which  places  this  desirable  result 
within  the  means  of  all  who  build  in  large  cities.  It  is  estimated 
that  the  loss  by  conflagrations  in  the  United  States  amounted  to 
twenty-five  millions  of  dollars  during  the  year  1854.  This  sum 
would  easily  pay  the  interest  on  the  extra  cost  of  making  fire- 
proof all  the  structures  in  the  country  in  the  manner  here  de- 
scribed. Besides,  the  mere  loss  in  dollars  does  not  cover  the  dis- 
astrous consequences  of  this  vast  destruction  of  property.  The 
domestic  misery  and  moral  degradation  which  inevitably  result 
from  such  sudden  and  overwhelming  calamities  are  beyond  pecun- 
iary estimate. 

Iron  was  early  proposed  as  a  substitute  for  the  arches  or  ma- 
sonry originally  employed,  because  it  could  be  placed  horizontally, 
like  wooden  beams,  and  would  cost  less  than  the  stone-work.  In 
a  beam,  however,  the  essential  requisite  is  that  it  shall  be  stiff 
enough  to  sustain  the  load.  To  secure  this  quality,  the  beams 
must  be  of  a  depth  proportioned  to  the  width  of  the  space  they 
are  to  cover.  For  all  ordinary  purposes,  this  requisite  involves 
great  weight  of  iron  in  each  beam.  It  is  well  known  that  many 
tons  of  cast  iron  can  be  melted  and  formed  into  a  single  piece : 
10  C 


34  MANUFACTURE  OP  THE  IRON  BEAMS. 

Use  of  cast  iron.  Use  of  wrought  iron.  Advantages  of  the  latter. 

but  cast  iron  is  comparatively  too  weak  to  resist  a  transverse  strain, 
which  is  the  peculiar  strain  produced  on  a  beam  by  a  loaded  floor. 
To  be  perfectly  secure,  then,  with  cast  iron,  it  was  necessary  to 
use  a  much  larger  quantity  of  material  than  would  be  required  of 
wrought  iron.  The  cost  was  thus  increased  to  such  an  extent  as 
to  confine  the  use  of  such  beams  to  a  really  limited  sphere.  Be- 
sides, cast  iron  is  liable  to  flaws,  a  single  one  of  which  might  en- 
danger the  safety  of  an  entire  building.  It  also  has  another  pe- 
culiarity, namely,  that  by  being  repeatedly  loaded  and  released 
from  its  load,  some  internal  change  is  produced  in  the  texture  of 
the  iron,  which  weakens  it,  so  that  it  has  less  power  each  time  to 
resist  the  strain  than  before ;  and  hence,  in  floors  subjected  to  great 
intermitting  strains,  the  ultimate  failure  of  the  cast  iron  beams  is 
certain,  if  the  loads  approach  nearly  to  the  measure  of  the  strength 
of  the  material.  The  total  destruction  of  some  large  buildings  and 
bridges  in  England  led  to  the  investigation  of  the  cause,  and  to 
the  establishment  of  the  facts  above  stated. 

Attention  was  next  turned  to  wrought  iron.  Wrought  iron  has 
all  the  properties  necessary  for  a  beam  in  far  greater  perfection 
than  cast  iron.  It  does  not  break  suddenly,  but,  when  overstrain- 
ed, gives  notice  of  the  approaching  failure  by  slowly  bending.  It 
is  much  stronger  than  any  other  material  to  resist  a  transverse 
strain,  and  therefore  may  be  made  proportionately  light,  thus  saving 
weight  in  the  walls  and  foundations  of  the  building,  and  head-room 
in  the  respective  stories.  Patient  experiments  were  made  to  de- 
termine the  best  form  in  which  to  distribute  the  material.  The 
highest  mathematical  knowledge  and  skill  were  required  to  determ- 


MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS.  35 

Flanged  beams  of  wrought  iron  proved  to  be  the  best. 

ine  the  laws  which  governed  the  strains  upon  wrought  iron,  and  it 
is  one  of  the  proudest  triumphs  of  modern  science  that  a  few  short 
months  only  were  required  to  determine  finally  and  forever,  on 
scientific  principles,  the  laws  of  construction  for  cast  and  wrought 
iron,  which  the  blind  experiments  of  centuries  before  had  failed  to 
discover. 

For  building  purposes,  it  was  finally  settled  that  flanged*  beams 
of  wrought  iron  are  most  desirable  when  the  requisites  of  strength, 
lightness,  and  convenience  of  application  are  considered.  This 
point  being  determined,  it  was  necessary  to  devise  the  best  mode 
of  producing  beams  in  this  material.  Two  modes  of  working 
wrought  iron  are  known,  one  by  hammering  it,  the  other  by  roll- 
ing it  into  the  required  shape.  Hammering  is  an  expensive  oper- 
ation, and  is  found  to  make  the  beams  too  costly  for  use.  Flanged 
beams  of  the  requisite  weight  had  never  been  rolled.  In  fact,  the 
whole  process  of  rolling  iron  is  comparatively  new.  It  was  in- 
vented by  Cort  in  the  last  century,  who,  by  his  invention  of  the 
puddling  process  as  well,  did  more  than  any  other  man,  except 
Watt,  for  modern  industry,  and  was  rewarded  with  poverty  in  his 
lifetime,  and  is  now  almost  forgotten  in  the  grave.  To  him  is  due 
the  manufacture  of  iron  at  a  cost  which  enables  it  to  be  used  with 
such  profusion  in  the  mechanic  arts,  thus  greatly  cheapening  all 
the  artificial  necessaries  of  civilized  life. 

The  difficulty  of  heating  and  handling  heavy  masses  of  iron, 

*  A  flange  upon  a  beam  is  a  flat  projection  extending  from  end  to  end  of  it.  A 
good  example  of  a  flange  is  seen  in  the  projecting  rim  of  a  rail-road  wheel,  which 
serves  to  keep  the  wheel  from  running  off  the  track. 

/" 


36  MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS. 

Riveted  beams.  Expense  of  them.  The  Trenton  Iron  Company. 

though  a  very  serious  one  at  first,  was  nevertheless  overcome  long 
before  any  practicable  process  could  be  devised  for  making  bars 
deep  enough,  with  flanges  broad  enough,  to  answer  for  spanning 
any  considerable  distance  between  walls.  Hence,  to  use  wrought 
iron  at  all,  it  became  necessary  to  rivet  separate  pieces  together 
into  the  shape  of  a  flanged  bar.  But,  as  separate  pieces  are  never 
as  strong  as  a  single  piece,  and  as  the. rivet-holes  necessarily  di- 
minish the  strength  of  the  material,  it  becomes  necessary  to  use 
more  iron,  besides  expending  great  labor  in  fastening  the  pieces 
together.  This  made  the  beams  expensive,  and,  although  fire- 
proofing  now  became  practicable,  and  free  from  most  of  the  objec- 
tions which  could  be  urged  against  the  other  modes,  it  was  still 
too  costly  for  ordinary  purposes,  owing  to  the  complex  character 
of  the  beams. 

The  desideratum  was  therefore  to  make  a  solid  rolled  flanged 
beam  of  the  right  shape  and  proportions,  and  of  the  weight  re- 
quired for  the  spans  ordinarily  adopted  in  the  buildings  of  large 
cities.  The  method  of  rolling  such  flanged  beams  was  finally 
brought  into  successful  operation  at  the  iron-works  of  the  Trenton 
Iron  Company,  situated  in  Trenton,  N.  J.  The  difficulties  to  be 
overcome  in  contriving  and  constructing  the  necessaiy  machinery 
were  very  great.  The  mass  of  iron  required  for  each  beam,  and 
which  has,  of  course,  to  be  pressed  through  the  rollers  at  almost  a 
white  heat,  is  enormously  heavy.  Then  the  difficulty  of  construct- 
ing the  rollers  so  that  the  iron,  in  passing  through  between  them, 
shall  have  formed  upon  it  flanges  so  wide  as  are  necessary  for 
beams,  was  very  serious.     We  can  not  here  describe  the  means 


MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS.  37 

William  Borrow.  His  death.  Value  of  his  invention. 

"by  which  at  length  the  end  was  attained.*  The  arrangement  was 
invented  by  a  young  Englishman  named  William  Borrow.  He 
was  a  relative  of  the  author  of  Lavengro  and  of  the  Bible  in  Spain. 
Mr.  Peter  Cooper,  under  whose  general  charge  the  operation  was 
conducted,  was  specially  interested  in  the  work,  from  the  desire  to 
employ  such  beams  for  the  purpose  of  making  fire-proof  the  large 
edifice  which  he  was  then  erecting  in  New  York  for  the  Scientific 
Institution.  He  calculated  that  he  should  be  able  to  put  up  the 
machinery  in  four  months,  and  at  an  expense  of  about  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars. 

The  difficulties  were,  however,  found  to  be  far  greater  than  had 
been  foreseen.  Instead  of  four  months,  it  was  two  years  before 
the  machinery  was  brought  into  successful  operation,  and  the  cost 
of  it,  instead  of  thirty,  was  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
And  when  at  length  the  machinery  was  made  to  work  successful- 
ly, the  designer,  Mr.  Borrow,  suddenly  became  ill,  and  died  with- 
in a  week,  from  the  prostration  of  all  his  energies,  mental  and  phys- 
ical— a  martyr  to  the  difficulties  which  beset  the  practical  workers 
of  the  world,  whose  story  is  seldom  told,  and  who  die  without  odes 
or  funeral  orations  to  celebrate  their  triumph  or  to  honor  their 
memory.  And  yet  it  is  very  likely  to  prove  in  the  end  that  Will- 
iam Borrow  has  been  one  of  the  benefactors  of  his  race.  His  in- 
vention will  probably  save  millions  of  property  from  destruction — 
will  ward  off  sorrow  and  calamity  from  innumerable  hearths  and 

*  The  process  of  rolling  out  these  immense  bars  of  glowing  iron  forms  a  very  mag- 
nificent spectacle.  It  can  be  witnessed  at  any  time  by  visiting  the  works  at  Trenton, 
which  are  always  readily  shown  to  strangers. 

r 


38  MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS. 

The  Harpers'  decision  to  adopt  the  wrought-iron  beam. 

homes  ;  and,  by  the  preserving  of  capital  from  destruction,  give 
vigor  to  great  industrial  enterprises  in  many  future  years. 

It  was  just  about  the  time  that  the  machinery  for  rolling  these 
beams  was  brought  to  perfection  that  the  Messrs.  Harper  were 
making  arrangements  for  the  erection  of  the  new  buildings  for  their 
establishment,  and,  after  giving  the  subject  a  careful  consideration, 
they  determined  to  adopt  them.  The  result  has  been  triumphant- 
ly successful,  and  this  mode  of  building  is  now  likely  to  be  exten- 
sively adopted.  After  a  full  and  careful  examination  of  the  sub- 
ject by  the  government,  it  has  been  decided  to  adopt  the  plan  in 
all  the  custom-houses  and  other  public  edifices  in  the  United 
States. 

A  wrought  iron  beam  of  this  principle  seems  a  very  simple  thing, 
both  in  its  structure  and  in  its  functions,  and  yet  it  is  surprising 
what  a  vast  combination  of  means  and  instrumentalities  is  neces- 
sary, and  on  what  a  prodigious  scale  the  work  must  be  performed, 
in  order  to  produce  such  beams  with  sufficient  economy  to  make 
the  invention  of  practical  value  to  society.  It  has  already  been 
stated  that  a  solid  wrought  iron  beam  might  be  made  by  hammer- 
ing, but  that  its  cost,  if  thus  manufactured,  would  be  too  great  to 
allow  of  its  use.  The  expense  would,  however,  in  this  case,  be  in- 
curred in  the  process  of  manxifacturing  rather  than  in  the  orig- 
inal outlay  for  machinery.  An  outlay  of  twenty-five  thousand 
or  thirty  thousand  dollars  would  enable  solid  hammered  beams  to 
be  made,  but  then  the  expense  of  the  process  of  manufacturing 
would  bring  the  cost  to  ten  or  twelve  cents  per  pound.  Rolled 
beams  are  made  at  five  or  six  cents  per  pound,  or  about  one  half 


MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IKON  BEAMS.  39 

Great  investment  of  capital  required  in  the  manufacture. 

the  above  rate.  But  then  the  expenditure  of  capital  required  in 
the  first  instance,  in  order  to  effect  this  reduction,  is  enormous.  In 
the  first  place,  in  order  to  make  iron  cheaply,  the  works  must  be 
on  a  large  scale.  This  precludes  the  use  of  charcoal  as  a  fuel,  be- 
cause it  can  not  be  got  in  quantities  sufficiently  large  for  great 
works  without  soon  driving  the  woodchopper  to  a  distance  from 
the  works  so  great  as  to  destroy  the  value  of  the  coal  by  the  ex- 
pense of  hauling  it.  Mineral  coal  must  therefore  be  used,  and 
some  site  of  manufacture  must  be  selected  to  which  both  ore  and 
coal  can  be  conveniently  brought  in  large  quantities.  Then  ex- 
tensive blast  furnaces  must  be  erected  for  the  conversion  of  the 
ore  into  pig  metal,  and  a  forge  built  for  turning  the  pig  metal  into 
wrought  iron  by  the  processes  of  puddling*  and  rolling. 

The  works  of  the  Trenton  Iron  Company  are  upon  the  smallest 
scale  which  will  combine  all  these  processes  in  an  economical 
manner,  and  yet  the  total  expenditure  for  mines,  furnaces,  mills, 
water  and  steam  power,  in  establishing  them,  is  about  one  million 
of  dollars.  The  number  of  hands  employed  directly  are  about  two 
thousand,  and  the  labor  of  all  these  is  essential  to  make  a  single 
beam  at  six  cents  per  pound.  Besides  this,  the  coal-mines  must 
be  opened  and  operated  on  an  extensive  scale,  in  order  to  produce 
coal  cheaply.  At  least  a  million  more  is  essential  for  this  pur- 
pose ;  for,  although  the  iron-works  do  not  take  all  the  coal,  yet,  if 
the  mines  were  not  operated  extensively,  the  coal  would  not  be 
cheap  enough  to  enable  the  manufacturer  to  make  beams  cheaply. 

*  Puddling  is  a  peculiar  process  by  which  cast  iron  is  converted  into  wrought  iron 
hy  means  of  passing  it  between  rollers  at  a  great  heat. 

/" 


40  MANUFACTURE  OF  THE  IRON  BEAMS. 

Subsidiary  agencies  required.  Future  progress  of  manufacturing  arts. 

Then  the  coal  and  ore  must  be  got  to  the  works.  This  is  accom- 
plished by  the  Lehigh  Canal  and  the  Morris  Canal,  which  have 
cost  some  twelve  or  fifteen  millions  of  dollars,  and  are  maintained 
by  a  large  annual  expenditure.  Then  the  pig  iron  must  be  trans- 
ported to  the  mill  over  works  that  have  cost  two  millions  of  dol- 
lars more ;  and,  finally,  the  beams  must  be  brought  to  New  York 
either  by  the  Delaware  and  Raritan  Canal,  or  by  the  Camden  and 
Amboy  Rail-road — works  which  have  cost  some  ten  millions  of 
dollars  more,  thus  making  essential  for  the  production  of  a  single 
rolled  beam  at  six  cents  per  pound,  instead  of  a  hammered  one  at 
ten  cents  per  pound,  an  investment  of  from  twenty-six  to  thirty 
millions  of  dollars,  which,  though  of  use  for  countless  other  pur- 
poses, is  still  essential  for  this  purpose ;  for  if  a  single  link  in  the 
chain  were  wanting,  the  extra  cost  would  more  than  cover  all  the 
difference  between  the  hammering  and  the  rolling  of  iron. 

This  simple  statement  will  serve  to  explain  why  the  comforts 
and  luxuries  of  life  are  made  accessible  to  all  ranks  by  modern  in- 
dustry, while  only  two  hundred  or  three  hundred  years  ago  they 
were  confined  to  a  very  small  portion  of  the  community.  When- 
ever any  article  can  be  made  on  a  scale  sufficiently  large  to  take 
advantage  of  the  best  method,  it  can  be  cheaply  made ;  when  but 
little  is  required,  the  cost  must  be  great.  Hence,  in  the  progress 
of  society,  manufactured  articles  will  be  brought  within  the  mjsans 
of  all  when  all  require  them. 


INTERIOR   OF   THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING.  41 

The  sectional  view  of  the  edifice.  The  basement  story. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

INTERIOR    OF   THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING. 

The  edifice  on  Franklin  Square  is  mainlj  devoted,  as  lias  al- 
ready been  explained,  to  the  purpose  of  storing  paper  and  books, 
and  the  various  other  supplies  of  stock  and  materials  used  in  the 
establishment,  while  the  processes  of  manufacture  are  carried  on 
altogether  in  the  Cliff  Street  building.  In  order  to  give  the  read- 
er a  distinct  idea  of  the  arrangement  of  this  building,  and  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  different  floors  are  appropriated  to  their  sev- 
eral uses,  the  artist  has  drawn  a  sectional  view  of  the  edifice,  rep- 
resenting at  one  view  the  whole  interior  of  it.  By  turning  over 
the  leaf  this  engraving  will  be  seen.  It  represents  the  seven  floors 
of  the  building,  with  the  operations  which  are  performed  in  each. 
I  propose,  in  this  chapter,  to  take,  with  the  reader,  a  cursory  sur- 
vey of  the  whole,  with  a  view  of  afterward  considering  the  several 
operations  by  themselves,  one  by  one,  and  describing  them  in  full 
detail. 

The  lowermost  story  seen  in  the  section  is  the  basement.  At 
the  extremity  of  it,  on  the  left,  we  see  parts  of  the  engine  and  ma- 
chinery which  supply  moving  power  for  all  the  operations  of  the 
establishment.  This  power  is  conveyed  to  the  different  floors  by 
a  system  of  axles,  pulleys,  and  bands,  extending  from  story  to 
story.  The  main  work  which  this  engine  has  to  perform  is  the 
driving  of  the  presses  on  the  floor  above. 

r 


42 


INTERIOR    OF    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING. 


Sectional  view  of  the  Cliff  Street  building. 


INTERIOR    OF    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING.  43 

Various  objects  seen  in  the  basement  story. 

Farther  toward  the  right,  in  the  basement  story,  we  see  a  door 
which  leads  to  the  boiler-room  in  the  court-yard.  Farther  still, 
near  the  centre  of  the  room,  several  hydraulic  standing-presses  are 
seen,  and  also,  still  farther  to  the  right,  some  printing-presses. 
The  principal  use  of  this  lower  room  is  to  receive  the  paper  from 
the.  store-room  in  the  Franklin  Square  building,  and  prepare  it  to 
be  put  upon  the  printing-presses  in  the  room  above.  It  requires 
to  be  pressed  in  the  standing-presses  in  order  to  make  it  smooth, 
and  to  be  damped  that  it  may  take  the  ink  properly  from  the  im- 
pression. Of  course,  only  a  very  small  portion  of  the  operations 
performed  in  this  room  can  be  shown  in  a  section  like  this.  The 
room  is,  in  fact,  more  than  sixty  feet  wide  from  front  to  back,  while 
the  section  shows  only  a  single  line  of  operations  from  left  to  right 
through  the  centre  of  it.  At  the  very  extremity  of  the  room  on 
the  right,  we  see  a  door  which  leads  to  the  subterranean  vaults, 
where  the  electrotype  and  stereotype  plates  are  stored.  Still  far- 
ther to  the  right,  beyond  the  partition  wall  at  the  end  of  the  room, 
we  see  a  horse  and  cart  coming  from  the  court  through  the  arched 
passage-way,  and  directly  beneath  is  a  section  of  one  of  the  vaults, 
with  two  men  going  into  it  by  the  light  of  a  lantern. 

The  first  story  above  the  basement,  which  is  the  principal  or 
first  story  of  the  building,  is  the  great  press-room.  This  is  the 
room  which  is  represented  in  the  ground  plan  on  page  21.  There 
we  saw  the  position  of  the  presses  on  the  floor  ;  here,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  have  a  front  elevation  of  one  tier  of  them.  There  are 
three  tiers,  ten  in  each  tier,  except  two  spaces  opposite  the  doors, 
making  twenty-eight  in  all.      The  weight  of  these  presses  is  about 


44  INTERIOR    OF    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING. 

The  presses  in  the  press-room.  The  feeders.  Preparing  the  forms. 

five  tons  each,  making  ten  tons  for  the  two  which  stand  between 
each  two  of  the  columns.  The  distribution  of  these  columns,  and 
the  arrangement  of  the  girders  and  arches  on  each  of  the  floors,  is 
very  distinctly  seen  in  this  sectional  drawing. 

We  observe  that  each  of  the  presses  is  attended  by  a  girl,  who 
stands  upon  a  raised  platform  by  the  side  of  it.  Her  duty  is_  to 
feed  the  press  with  paper,  placing  one  sheet  at  a  time.  The 
sheet  is  thrown  over  when  it  is  printed  by  what  is  called  the  fly, 
which  is  a  light  wooden  frame,  like  a  hand  with  a  multitude  of 
straight  slender  fingers,  which  lifts  the  sheet  when  it  has  received 
the  impression,  and  throws  it  over  upon  the  pile  formed  by  those 
which  had  been  printed  before.  At  the  right-hand  end  of  the 
room  this  fly  may  be  seen  very  distinctly  in  the  act  of  going  back 
after  another  sheet  of  paper,  and  on  the  other  presses  along  the 
line  we  see  it  in  various  positions,  bringing  the  printed  sheet  over. 

At  the  extreme  end  of  the  press-room,  toward  the  right,  we  see 
two  men  standing  at  a  table.  They  are  preparing  a  form  for  the 
press.  This  is  a  very  important  operation,  and  will  be,  hereafter, 
more  fully  described.  Near  them  is  a  flight  of  steps  leading  up 
to  an  elevated  compartment  directly  over  the'  passage  into  the 
court-yard,  where  we  see  the  horse  and  cart  coming  out.  This  is 
the  office  of  the  foreman  of  the  press-room.  Over  his  desk  is  a 
large  opening,  through  which  he  can  survey  his  whole  dominion, 
and  observe  the  action  of  all  the  presses  and  machinery.  The 
men  who  are  employed  in  preparing  the  forms  for  the  press  are 
directly  beneath  this  window. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  press-room,  namely,  at  the  extreme  left, 


INTEEIOR    OF    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING.  45 

The  drying  and  pressing  room.  Apparatus  for  drying. 

is  a  hand-press,  used  for  working  off  hand-bills,  circulars,  and  for 
other  small  operations. 

We  now  pass  to  the  next  story  above,  which  is  called  the  dry- 
ing and  pressing-room.  The  printed  sheets,  as  fast  as  they  are 
taken  from  the  presses  below,  are  brought  to  this  room  through 
the  hoistway  in  the  court-yard.  The  entrance  to  this  hoistway 
is  seen  opposite  the  third  press  in  the  press-room,  counting  from 
the  right  toward  the  left.  It  is  a  wide  opening  closed  by  double 
doors,  and  directly  above  it,  in  each  story,  is  a  similar  opening  lead- 
ing to  the  hoistway.      In  one  of  the  stories  the  doors  are  open. 

The  range  of  doors  leading  to  the  staircase  in  the  tower  is  a 
little  to  the  left  of  the  openings  leading  to  the  hoistway.  The 
doors  leading  to  the  staircase  are  narrower,  it  will  be  seen,  than 
those  of  the  hoistway.  All  the  other  openings  in  all  the  stories 
are  windows. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  drying  and  pressing-room.  At  the  ex- 
treme right,  over  the  office  of  the  foreman  of  the  press-room,  is  a 
range  of  hydraulic  presses,  where  the  sheets  are  pressed  after  being 
printed.  They  are,  however,  dried  before  they  are  pressed.  This 
drying  operation  is  performed  at  the  other  extremity  of  the  room, 
namely,  on  the  left.  There  is  a  compartment  inclosed  here  which 
is  kept  constantly  heated  by  steam-pipes,  with  a  system  of  large 
frames,  like  horses  for  drying  clothes,  which  can  be  drawn  in  and 
out.  We  see  the  compartment  in  the  engraving  in  the  first  divi- 
sion of  this  room  on  the  left,  that  is,  in  the  part  between  the  wall 
and  the  first  tier  of  pillars.  Between  the  first  and  second  tier  of 
pillars  we  see  two  of  the  frames  out.     One  of  them  is  already  filled 


46  INTERIOR    OF   THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING. 

The  hydraulic  presses.  Piles  of  pressed  paper  ready  to  be  folded. 

with  sheets  of  paper,  and  the  workman  is  in  the  act  of  pushing  it 
in  to  the  heated  compartment,  in  order  that  the  sheets  may  be  dried 
there.  The  other  frame  is  not  yet  ready  to  go  in  ;  a  workman  is 
employed  in  putting  sheets  upon  it  l>y  means  of  a  pole  with  a 
cross-bar  at  the  top,  as  seen  in  the  engraving. 

When  the  sheets  are  dry,  they  are  taken  on  trucks — one  of 
which  is  seen  standing  near — to  the  other  extremity  of  the  room, 
to  be  pressed  in  the  hydraulic  presses.  An  enlarged  view  and  a 
more  full  description,  both  of  the  drying  apparatus  and  of  the  hy- 
draulic presses,  will  be  given  in  a  subsequent  chapter. 

The  hydraulic  engine,  by  which  the  pressure  is  applied  to  the 
sheets  and  the  presses,  is  represented  in  the  engraving,  though  I 
am  not  certain  that  the  reader  will  be  able  to  find  it.  It  stands 
in  the  division  of  the  room  which  comes  between  the  first  and  sec- 
ond columns,  reckoning  from  the  right.  It  stands  near  a  window, 
a  little  to  the  left  of  where  two  men  are  at  work  piling  up  a  stack 
of  paper  to  go  into  one  of  the  hydraulic  presses.  To  the  left  of 
the  hydraulic  engine  is  a  range  of  tables — only  one  of  which,  how- 
ever, is  seen  in  the  engraving — where  the  sheets  are  prepared  to 
go  into  the  presses,  and  arranged  when  they  come  out.  The  op- 
eration, Avhich  is  quite  a  curious  one,  will  be  more  fully  described 
hereafter. 

In  the  centre  of  the  room  are  to  be  seen,  stacked  up  in  large 
racks,  a  number  of  great  piles  of  sheets  of  paper  that  have  been 
pressed  and  dried,  and  are  now  ready  to  be  folded  for  the  binder. 
These  stacks  are  some  of  them  so  high  that,  in  order  to  put  on  the 
uppermost  sheets,  the  men  are  obliged  to  mount  upon  ladders,  as 


INTERIOR   OF    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING.  47 

Folding-room.  Gas  fixtures.  Warming  apparatus. 

seen  in  the  engraving,  and  the  weight  is  very  great  which  conies 
upon  the  girders  and  beams  of  the  floor  below. 

The  next  story  above,  namely,  the  third  above  the  basement,  is 
called  the  folding-room.  The  principal  operation  performed  in  it 
is  that  of  folding  the  sheets  of  paper  after  they  are  pressed,  and 
preparing  them  to  be  stitched  or  sewed.  The  work  of  folding  is 
performed  by  girls,  who  sit  at  long  tables  arranged  in  the  room  for 
this  purpose.  One  range  of  these  tables,  with  the  girls  at  their 
work,  is  seen  represented  in  the  engraving,  occupying  the  left  half 
of  the  apartment.  Gas  fixtures,  at  proper  distances,  are  suspend- 
ed over  the  table  for  evening  work  in  winter.  Similar  burners  are 
to  be  seen  in  various  other  parts  of  the  building. 

Near  each  end  of  this  table  is  to  be  seen  an  apparatus  present- 
ing the  appearance  of  a  frame  of  parallel  bars,  rising  to  a  height  of 
two  or  three  feet  above  the  floor.  These  are  sets  of  steam-pipes, 
by  which  the  apartment  is  warmed.  Similar  sets  of  pipes  are  seen 
in  various  other  places  on  the  different  floors. 

At  the  time  of  folding  the  sheets,  it  is  necessary  to  insert,  in 
their  proper  places,  between  the  leaves,  all  such  engravings  as  have 
been  printed  separately  from  the  body  of  the  work.  The  case  of 
shelves  seen  at  the  end  of  the  apartment,  on  the  left,  near  the  end 
of  the  table,  is  used  to  contain  supplies  of  these  engravings,  ar- 
ranged for  use. 

The  doors  leading  to  the  hoistway  are  represented  open  on  this 
story,  and  some  men  are  in  the  act  of  drawing  in  a  load  of  printed 
sheets  from  the  platform.  A  part  of  the  machinery  of  the  eleva- 
tor is  seen  through  the  opening. 

f 


48  INTERIOE    OP    THE    CLIFF    STREET    BUILDING. 

The  hydraulic  presses.  The  pump.  Long  tables.  Clock. 

To  the  right  of  the  hoistway  door,  in  the  fourth  story,  near  the 
right-hand  end  of  the  apartment,  is  seen  a  massive  structure,  form- 
ing a  base  for  the  support  of  heavy  presses  in  the  room  above. 
These  are  hydraulic  presses  of  great  weight,  and  a  special  support 
was  accordingly  provided  for  them,  consisting  of  extra  columns  in 
the  second  and  third  stories,  resting  on  a  very  thick  wall  coming 
up  from  the  stories  below.  These  presses  are  used  for  pressing 
the  folded  sheets,  so  as  to  bring  them  together  into  a  compact  form, 
ready  for  sawing  the  backs  and  binding  them.  There  are  two  of 
these  presses  in  fact,  though  only  one  of  them  is  shown  in  the  sec- 
tion. The  hydraulic  pump  by  which  the  pressure  is  applied  is 
seen  to  the  right  of  the  press,  near  tfae  end  of  the  room.  A  little 
to  the  left  of  the  press  is  a  small  machine  called  a  sawing  machine, 
which  will  hereafter  be  more  fully  explained.  The  man  on  the 
ladder,  to  the  left  of  the  sawing  machine,  is  engaged  in  making 
some  adjustment  of  the  machinery  that  runs  along  from  end  to  end 
of  the  room,  under  the  ceiling,  to  supply  motive  power  to  the  va- 
rious engines  in  the  apartment.  The  remainder  of  this  apartment 
is  occupied  by  girls  seated  at  long  tables,  and  employed  in  the 
work  of  sewing  or  stitching  the  sheets.  A  clock  is  seen  hanging 
upon  the  wall,  opposite  the  centre  of  the  tables.  A  little  to  the 
left  of  the  clock  is  the  desk  of  the  man  who  superintends  these  op- 
erations. 

The  next  story,  that  is,  the  fifth  above  the  basement,  is  called 
the  Finishing-room.  The  various  operations  performed  in  this 
room  will  be  described  in  detail  hereafter.  The  foreman  is  seen 
sitting  at  a  desk,  on  an  elevated  platform,  in  the  last  division  but 


INTERIOR   OF  THE   CLIFF   STREET   BUILDING.  49 

Great  number  of  presses.  Marbling.  Finishmg-room. 

one  toward  the  right.  We  see  the  clock  on  the  wall  behind  him. 
Before  him  are  a  large  number  of  men  engaged  in  what  is  called 
fomoarding  the  books — that  is,  preparing  and  fitting  the  covers, 
pasting  down  the  fly-leaves,  trimming  the  edges,  and  performing 
other  such  processes  preparatory  to  the  stamping  and  gilding.  On 
the  extreme  right  is  a  row  of  standing-presses,  used  for  pressing 
the  books  after  they  are  sewed  and  put  together,  this  making  the 
fourth  time  in  which  the  books,  or  the  materials  of  which  they  are 
composed,  have  been  subjected  to  pressure  in  the  different  stages 
of  the  manufacture.  The  number  of  presses  required  for  all  these 
varied  operations  is  not  less  than  twenty-five.  Of  printing-press- 
es— all  massive  machines  of  great  power,  and  driven  by  steam — 
there  are  thirty-three  in  the  principal  press-room  and  in  the  story 
below. 

In  the  back  corner  of  this  apartment,  toward  the  right,  is  an  in- 
closure  for  the  process  of  marbling.  Other  portions  of  the  room, 
toward  the  left,  are  also  inclosed  for  different  processes  of  finishing 
work.  In  the  first  division  on  the  left,  we  see  the  men  engaged 
in  sprinkling  the  backs  of  the  books  for  the  purpose  of  producing 
the  mottled  appearance  often  seen  on  the  backs  of  the  covers  of 
books  bound  in  leather.  The  second  and  third  divisions  of  this 
apartment  are  occupied  by  a  room  in  which  gilding  and  other  fin- 
ishing processes  are  performed.  We  observe  a  number  of  small 
furnaces  on  the  table.  In  these  the  irons  for  gilding  are  heated. 
The  fire  is  made  by  flames  of  gas. 

This  brings  us  to  the  upper  story,  which  is  the  great  composing- 
room  of  the  establishment — that  is,  the  room  where  the  types  are 
10  D  f 


50  THE    COURT-YARD. 


The  court-yard.  Chimney.  Staircase  tower.  Hoistway. 


set,  as  will  be  hereafter  explained.     The  electrotyping  operations 
are  also  performed  here. 

Having  thus  given  a  general  view  of  the  arrangement  of  the 
Cliff  Street  building,  and  a  summary  account  of  the  several  opera- 
tions performed  in  it,  we  shall  now  proceed  to  consider  some  of  the 
most  important  of  these  operations  in  detail,  beginning  with  com- 
position, which  is  the  first  step  in  the  complicated  process  of  print- 
ing a  book.  We  have  first,  however,  in  order  that  we  may  fully 
complete  our  general  survey  of  the  buildings  themselves,  to  take  a 
view  of  the  interior  of  the  court-yard. 

* 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE    COURT- YARD. 

The  two  edifices  of  the  Harper  Establishment,  fronting  respect- 
ively on  Cliff  Street  and  Franklin  Square,  are  separated  from  each 
other  by  a  court-yard.  This  court-yard  is  about  twenty-eight  feet 
wide,  and  extends  the  whole  length  of  the  buildings.  It  contains, 
near  the  centre,  three  principal  constructions  :  1.  The  great  chim- 
ney of  the  establishment ;  2.  The  brick  tower  inclosing  the  circu- 
lar staircase ;  and,  3.  The  hoistway,  by  which  the  various  supplies 
of  materials  and  books  in  the  different  stages  of  manufacture  are 
conveyed  up  and  down  to  the  several  stories,  as  required.  Nu- 
merous iron  bridges,  connecting  the  different  stories  of  the  two 
buildings  with  the  hoistway  and  the  tower,  pass  across  this  court, 
and  form  one  of  the  most  striking  features  of  it.  A  view  of  the 
whole  is  presented  in  the  engraving  on  the  opposite  page. 


THE   COURT-YARD. 


51 


m    I 

m 


111 il  k   '  -,,,"S 

IS  11 


lilillll 


Mil    If 
I'i1  ir'ii't-- 


UVrfcRlOR    OK    THE    COURT-YARD. 
f 


52  THE    COURT-YARD. 


Entrance  to  the  courtyard.  The  machinery  of  the  hoistvvay. 

The  entrance  to  the  court  is  by  an  arched  passage-way  leading 
from  Cliff  Street.  A  cart  is  represented  in  the  engraving  as  com- 
ing in.  The  hoistway  is  the  framed  structure  on  the  left,  as  seen 
in  the  engraving.  It  extends  from  the  ground  to  some  distance 
above  the  topmost  story  of  the  Cliff  Street  building.  There  is 
within  it  a  movable  platform,  which  rises  and  falls  from  top  to 
bottom.  This  platform  is  worked  by  machinery  connected  with 
the  steam-engine,  which  is  placed  in  the  court  beyond  the  tower. 
This  machinery  acts  upon  the  platform  by  means  of  a  cable  which 
passes  over  a  pulley  at  the  top  of  the  hoistway.  This  pulley  may 
be  seen  in  the  engraving,  with  a  roof  above  it  to  protect  it  and  the 
rope  from  the  rain. 

The  platform  itself  is  represented  in  the  engraving  as  near  the 
bottom  of  the  hoistway,  with  a  man  standing  upon  it,  whose  busi- 
ness it  is  to  raise  and  lower  it,  in  conveying  goods  up  and  down. 
He  controls  the  motions  of  it  by  means  of  levers  placed  within  his 
reach  on  the  platform.  One  of  these  levers  communicates  with 
the  steam-engine ;  the  other  with  a  brake  which  encircles  a  friction- 
wheel,  and,  when  in  action,  retards  the  descent.  This  mechanism 
can  not  be  here  fully  described  in  its  details.  It  is  sufficient  to 
say  that,  by  the  management  of  these  levers,  the  man  in  charge 
can  cause  the  platform  to  ascend  or  descend  at  will,  with  himself 
and  all  its  burden  upon  it.  He  can  make  it  move  as  fast  or  as 
slow  as  he  pleases,  and  by  means  of  a  ratchet-wheel  connected  with 
the  mechanism,  can  lock  it  at  any  moment  wherever  he  wishes  it 
to  stop.  He  can  place  it  in  this  manner  opposite  the  doors  lead- 
ing to  any  of  the  various  stories  of  the  Cliff  Street  building,  or  to 


THE    COURT-YARD,  53 


The  iron  bridges  in  the  court-yard.  Glass  roof  over  the  boilers. 

the  bridges  leading  to  the  Franklin  Square  building.  When  the 
platform  is  so  placed,  the  floor  of  it  forms  a  continuous  surface 
with  the  floor  of  the  bridge  or  of  the  doorway,  as  the  case  may  be, 
and  thus  the  trucks  containing  the  books  or  the  paper,  or  whatever 
else  it  may  be,  that  is  to  be  transported  up  or  down,  can  be  drawn 
directly  upon  it. 

The  hoistway  is  six  feet  square,  and  as  the  breadth  of  the  court 
is  twenty-eight  feet,  it  leaves  twenty-two  for  the  length  of  the 
bridges  leading  from  it  to  the  Franklin  Square  building.  The 
bridges  leading  from  the  tower  are  not  so  long,  the  tower  being  sit- 
uated nearer  the  centre  of  the  court. 

Some  of  the  bridges  are  level,  others  are  more  or  less  inclined, 
owing  to  the  different  relative  heights  of  the  several  stories  of  the 
two  buildings. 

The  tower  itself  is  ten  feet  in  diameter  outside,  and  eight  with- 
in. It  contains  a  spiral  staircase  of  iron,  with  landings  opposite 
the  bridges  leading  to  the  several  stories  of  the  two  buildings. 
The  chimney,  which  is  seen  rising  like  a  monument  to  some  dis- 
tance above  the  roof,  is  the  only  portion  of  the  original  establish- 
ment not  destroyed  by  the  fire.  It  presented  a  singular  spectacle, 
rising  above  the  blackened  ruins  which  lay  smouldering  around. 

All  that  part  of  the  court-yard  which  lies  beyond  the  tower  is 
roofed  over  with  glass.  This  roof  is  shown  more  distinctly  in  the 
plan  on  page  51.  The  inclosure  contains  the  boilers  of  the  steam- 
engine.  The  boilers  are  placed  thus  in  the  court-yard  for  the 
double  purpose  of  security  against  fire,  and  to  prevent  any  dam- 
age to  the  buildings  themselves  from  an  explosion. 

f 


54  COMPOSITION. 


The  windows.  Question  of  iron  shutters.    '  Composition. 

The  windows  that  open  upon  this  court,  as  well  as  all  the  ex- 
terior windows  of  the  buildings,  are  framed  and  sashed  with  iron, 
and  are  of  very  large  size.  Those  of  the  principal  floors  are  each 
six  feet  wide  by  twelve  feet  high.  The  average  size  of  all  the 
windows  in  the  building  is  four  feet  by  nine,  and  the  whole  num- 
ber of  windows  is  four  hundred  and  thirty-four.  Portions  of  each 
sash  are  made  to  move  on  pivots  for  ventilation. 

It  was  thought  best  not  to  apply  iron  shutters  to  the  windows 
opening  into  this  court,  as  the  communication  of  fire  across  the 
court,  by  the  burning  of  the  materials  in  any  room  of  either  build- 
ing, to  the  opposite  room  in  the  other,  is  deemed  all  but  impossi- 
ble ;  and  the  iron  shutters,  if  applied,  would  operate  to  prevent  the 
breaking  out  of  a  fire  from  being  so  soon  observed  by  the  watch- 
man, in  case  the  accident  should  occur. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

COMPOSITION. 


The  printer's  type,  notwithstanding  the  wonders  that  it  per- 
forms, and  the  vast  influence  which  it  exerts  on  the 
welfare  and  destiny  of  man,  is  in  itself  a  very  sim- 
ple little  thing.  It  is  a  small,  short  metallic  bar, 
with  the  form  of  the  letter  which  it  is  intended  to 
print  cast  on  one  end  of  it.  This  engraving  repre- 
sents a  type  of  the  letter  m,  of  the  natural  size — 
type  of  a  letter,  that  is,  of  one  of  the  natural  sizes,  for,  of  course,  the 


COMPOSITION.  55 


TYPES    SET    UP. 


Great  number  and  variety  of  types.  The  composing-stick. 

breadth  and  thickness  of  the  little  bar  varies  according  to  the  size 
of  the  intended  letter,  though  the  length  is  always  the  same,  being 
made  to  conform  to  a  common  standard. 

Besides  letters,  there  are  types  for  commas,  periods,  quotation 
marks,  and  all  other  characters  used  in  printing.  There  are  also 
shorter  pieces  of  metal,  which  are  put  in  between 
the  words,  where  a  little  space  is  required  to  sep- 
arate them.  These  are  called  spaces  themselves. 
You  see  them  represented  in  the  annexed  engrav- 
ing. 

Of  course,  the  forms  of  the  letters  are  reversed 
on  the  types,  but  they  come  right  in  the  printing. 
They  come  right,  too,  by  being  reflected,  as  you  will  see  by  hold- 
ing up  the  page  containing  the  preceding  engraving  before  a  mir- 
ror. When  types  are  arranged  in  this  way,  so  as  to  form  the 
words  that  are  to  be  printed,  they  are  said  to  be  set  up,  and  the 
work  of  setting  them  up  is  called  composing  or  composition* 

In  arranging  his  types,  the  compositor  has  a  little  iron  frame 
to  set  them  up  in,  which  is  large  enough  to  hold  from  twelve  to 
twenty  lines  at  a  time.  This  instrument  is  called  a  composing- 
stick. 

*  The  word  compose  means  strictly  to  place  together.  In  writing  composition  in  a 
school,  the  writer  arranges  and  puts  together  words  and  ideas  to  form  sentences  and 
a  continued  discourse,  while  the  printer's  composition  is  the  arranging  and  putting 
together  of  letters  to  form  words  and  sentences.  So  also  the  putting  together  of  mu- 
sical notes,  in  such  a  way  as  that,  when  they  are  played  or  sung,  they  will  form  a 
tune,  is  called  musical  composition ;  and,  when  different  substances  are  mixed  togeth- 
er to  make  a  compound,  the  result  is  often  termed  a  composition 

f 


56 


COMPOSITION. 


Setting  type. 


Plan  and  arrangement  of  the  cases. 


The  following  engraving  represents  the  form  of  a  composing 
stick. 


IB  ^'~r"  ■■.'■■ 


COMPOSING-STICK 


In  setting  up  the  type  in  the  composing-stick,  the  compositor 
stands  at  what  is  called  the  case.  The  case  is  a  broad  and  shal- 
low box,  divided  into  a  number  of  compartments  by  means  of 
thin  partitions.      Each  compartment  is  filled  with  the  types  of 

one  particular  letter  or  charac- 
ter. There  are,  in  fact,  two  of 
these  cases  before  each  com- 
positor. One  lies  directly  be- 
fore him,  on  a  stand,  and  is 
placed  in  a  sloping  position, 
like  the  top  of  a  desk.  The 
other  is  farther  back,  and  is 
more  nearly  upright.  The 
position  of  both  is  represent- 
ed in  the  adjoining  engraving. 
The  first  mentioned  of  these 
cases  is  called  the  lower  case. 
The  upper  case  contains  the  capitals, 


THE    CASE. 


The  other  is  the  upper  one. 


COMPOSITION.  57 


Construction  of  the  different  compartments.  Comparative  number  of  letters. 

small  capitals,  foot-note  marks,  dashes,  &c,  and  the  lower  one  the 
small  letters,  points,  figures,  double  letters,  and  spaces.  These, 
being  the  types  most  in  use,  are  placed  in  the  case  nearest  to  the 
hand  of  the  workman. 

Below  are  drawers  containing  Italic  letters,  and  other  sorts  still 
less  frequently  employed. 

In  respect  to  the  compartments  of  the  cases,  there  are  two  things 
particularly  to  be  observed :  one  is,  that  they  vary  much  in  size, 
and  the  other  is,  that  the  letters  are  not  placed  in  them  at  all  in 
alphabetical  order.  Some  letters  occur  much  more  frequently  in 
our  language  than  others.  The  letter  e,  for  example,  is  much  more 
common  than  any  other ;  the  printer  consequently  requires  a  much 
larger  supply  of  e?s  than  of  the  rest,  and  he  wishes,  too,  to  have 
them  near  at  hand  ;  whereas  the  letters  j,  and  k,  and  x,  occur  very 
unfrequently.  Quite  a  small  compartment,  therefore,  will  answer 
for  them,  and  it  may  be  placed,  moreover,  a  little  farther  away. 
The  case  is  planned,  in  a  word,  with  reference  to  having  the  letters 
most  frequently  in  use  provided  with  the  largest  compartments, 
and  also  to  having  them  nearest  to  the  compositor's  hand. 

You  can  easily  prove  to  your  own  satisfaction  how  much  more 
numerous  some  letters  are  than  others  in  our  language,  by  count- 
ing the  number  of  those  of  the  same  kind  in  any  sentence  in  a 
book.  If  you  take  any  sentence  of  four  or  five  lines,  you  will  be 
sure  to  find  many  more  e's  than  any  other  letter,  and  very  few 
j's,  &'s,  «'s,  s's,  and  ^'s.  You  will  find  a  considerable  number 
of  fs  and  a's — about  three  quarters  as  many  as  of  the  e's.  Of 
c's  you  will  find  about  one  quarter  as  many,  while  of  s's  you  will 


58  COMPOSITION. 


The  art  of  deciphering.  Curious  method  by  counting  the  characters. 

only  find  one  for  every  sixty  e's.  Indeed,  the  proportion  of  the 
various  letters  in  all  English  writing  is  much  more  regular  than 
one  would  have  supposed,  so  that  it  may  be  made  quite  a  subject 
of  calculation. 

A  very  curious  use  of  this  principle  is  made  in  what  is  called 
the  art  of  deciphering.  In  time  of  war,  when  letters  containing 
orders,  or  any  important  intelligence,  are  sent  from  one  officer  to 
another,  under  circumstances  in  which  it  is  probable  that  they 
might  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  it  is  customary  to  write 
them  in  cipher,  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  in  secret  characters ;  and 
when  such  letters  are  seized  by  the  other  party,  it  is  a  great  art 
to  decipher  them.  Now  if  the  cipher,  that  is,  the  secret  mode  of 
writing,  consists  only  of  using,  instead  of  each  letter  of  the  alpha- 
bet, some  other  letter  or  character  in  its  place,  the  work  of  deci- 
phering is  very  easy.  You  have  only  to  count  the  number  of 
times  in  which  the  several  letters  or  characters  occur  in  the  writ- 
ing, and  the  work  is  almost  done  at  once.  The  character  which 
has  the  highest  number  is  of  course  e,  and  the  others  follow  in 
almost  regular  order.  There  are  a  number  of  other  curious  meth- 
ods and  contrivances  which  assist  in  identifying  the  various  letters 
and  characters,  that  I  have  not  time  here  to  explain ;  such  as  if 
the  character  which  stands  for  e  comes  at  the  end  of  a  word  of 
three  letters  several  times,  the  other  two  letters  are  probably  t  and 
h  ;  and  also,  if  any  word  of  a  single  letter  occurs  in  the  course  of 
the  writing,  it  must  be  either  a  or  I,  as  only  those  letters  make 
single  words  in  common  use  in  our  language.  By  these  and  a  few 
other  similar  principles,  a  number  of  the  characters  are  soon  ascer- 


COMPOSITION.  59 


Exceptions  to  the  general  rule.  How  the  compositor  sets  the  type. 

tained,  and  every  one  that  is  thus  ascertained  helps  very  much  to 
disclose  the  next.  Indeed,  this  mode  of  writing  is  so  easily  deci- 
phered that  it  is  now  never  used  ;  other  much  more  difficult  meth- 
ods take  its  place. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed,  from  what  has  been  said, 
that  the  proportion  of  the  different  letters  as  they  occur  in  different 
books  is  by  any  means  entirely  uniform.  If  a  writer  of  a  tale,  for 
example,  were  to  choose  such  a  name  as  Zizine  for  the  heroine  of 
it,  the  compositor,  in  setting  it  up,  would  very  soon  get  out  of  s's. 
Something  like  this,  substantially,  continually  occurs  ;  that  is,  the 
subject  or  character  of  a  work  may  be  such  as  to  occasion  the  fre- 
quent recurrence  of  particular  words,  and  this  brings  the  letters 
which  are  contained  in  that  word  into  unusual  demand ;  so  that 
different  books  run,  as  the  compositors  express  it,  upon  different 
letters.      Still,  the  general  principle  is  true. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  compositor  at  his  case. 

He  does  not  look  at  the  face  of  the  type  to  see  what  letter  it  is 
when  he  takes  it  up  and  sets  it  in  the  composing-stick,  but  takes 
it  for  granted,  if  it  comes  from  the  right  compartment,  it  is  the  right 
letter.  He  has  not  time  to  look  at  it  more  than  to  give  it  a  slight 
glance  to  see  that  he  puts  it  into  the  composing-stick  right  end  up 
and  right  side  to.  He  is  assisted  in  this  by  what  are  called  the 
nicks  on  the  side  of  the  type,  which  are  small  notches  made  on  the 
side  which  is  to  be  turned  outward  when  the  type  is  set  in  the 
composing-stick.  It  is  much  easier  to  set  the  type  right  by  a 
glance  at  these  notches,  which  ai'e  very  conspicuous,  than  to  look 

f 


60  COMPOSITION. 


Facilities  for  composing.  Measuring  by  ems.  An  hour's  work. 

at  the  letter  on  the  face  of  it,  and  see  which  is  the  top  and  which 
is  the  bottom  of  it,  for  this,  in  the  case  of  some  of  the  letters  par- 
ticularly, as,  for  example,  the  o  and  the  s,  would  require  very  close 
attention. 

Thus  every  possible  arrangement  is  made  to  facilitate  the  work 
of  the  compositor,  and  enable  him  to  get  the  types  up  as  rapidly 
as  possible  from  the  several  compartments,  and  to  place  them  with 
the  least  delay  in  the  right  position  in  the  composing-stick.  By 
means  of  these  facilities — that  is,  by  having  the  types  that  are  most 
frequently  used  placed  nearest  at  hand,  and  having  them  all  mark- 
ed so  that  they  may  be  placed  in  the  right  position  at  a  glance — a 
good  compositor  can  proceed  very  rapidly  with  his  work.  He  has 
every  inducement  to  learn  to  work  fast,  for  he  is  paid,  not  by  the 
time,  but  by  the  quantity  of  work  which  he  accomplishes.  The 
number  of  pages  that  he  sets  up  are  measured  from  time  to  time, 
and  the  amount  entered  on  a  schedule ;  then,  at  the  end  of  the 
week  or  fortnight,  he  is  paid  according  to  what  he  has  done.  The 
unit  or  standard  of  measurement  for  the  work  is  the  type  of  the 
letter  m  ;  that  type  being  exactly  square  in  its  form,  it  is  easy  to 
measure  by  it,  for  there  will  always  be  as  many  ems  in  a  line  as 
there  are  lines  in  a  space  up  and  down  the  page  equal  to  the  length 
of  the  line. 

To  set  up  a  thousand  ems  in  an  hour  is  considered  pretty  good 
work,  though  some  compositors  will  set  up  fifteen  hundred.  To 
do  this,  however,  the  man  must  be  all  the  time  on  the  alert,  and 
the  motions  both  of  his  eye  and  his  hand  must  be  very  quick  in- 
deed ;  for  we  must  remember  that,  in  a  thousand  ems,  there  are 


COMPOSITION.  61 


Number  of  types  on  an  average  in  a  thousand  ems. 


many  more  than  one  thousand  types  to  be  handled,  since  a  great 
many  of  the  types,  the  letter  i  for  example,  and  the  comma,  and 
the  period,  and  the  spaces,  are  so  thin  that  if  would  take  several 
of  them  to  make  an  m.  I  learn  that,  upon  an  average,  there  are 
about  three  times  as  many  types  in  a  page  as  the  number  of  ems 
which  measure  it.  If  this  is  so,  a  man,  in  order  to  set  up  a  thou- 
sand ems  in  an  hour,  has  to  take  up  and  place  three  thousand  dif- 
ferent pieces  of  metal.  And  when  we  consider  that  he  lias  to  select 
all  these  separate  pieces  from  a  great  many  different  compartments, 
not  less  than  one  hundred  and  forty  in  all,  some  of  them  almost  as 
far  off  from  him  as  he  can  reach,  and  that  he  must  place  every 
one  in  just  such  a  position  in  the  composing-stick,  and  must  then 
justify  the  line — that  is,  must  adjust  it  exactly  to  the  allotted 
length,  it  is  plain  that  his  movements  must  be  very  active  to  en- 
able him  to  place  three  thousand  of  them  in  an  hour. 

There  is  a  great  difference  in  different  men  in  respect  to  their 
natural  capacity  to  make  quick  compositors.  This  difference  does 
not  depend  altogether  on  their  mental  qualities,  such  as  their  en- 
ergy, industry,  and  attention,  but  much,  also,  on  the  physical  con- 
stitution of  the  nerves  and  muscles  of  the  eye  and  the  arm.  There 
is  a  difference  analogous  to  this  in  the  action  of  certain  musical  in- 
struments, such  as  the  piano  or  the  organ.  Some  respond  quick- 
er to  the  touch  than  others,  on  account  of  nice  and  delicate  differ- 
ences in  the  interior  mechanism  ;  that  is,  the  connection  of  the 
series  of  effects,  whatever  they  are,  which  intervene  between  the 
touch  of  the  key  and  the  production  of  the  sound,  in  some  instru- 
ments, is  such  that  the  process  is  run  through  with  great  rapidity, 

f 


62  COMPOSITION. 


Rapid  compositors.  Requisites.  Number  of  motions  to  be  made. 

and  the  sound  follows  the  touch  almost  in  an  instant.  In  others 
it  is  more  slow.  On  instruments  of  the  former  kind,  very  rapid 
music  can  be  played ;  on  the  latter,  only  slow  music,  for  you  can 
go  with  the  succession  of  notes  no  faster  than  the  sounds  can  be 
produced  after  touching  the  keys  ;  in  other  words,  you  can  go  no 
faster  than  the  nature  of  the  instrument  allows.  They  may  be 
excellent  instruments  notwithstanding — that  is,  they  may  be  excel- 
lent for  the  kind  of  music  they  are  adapted  to.  They  may  be 
richer  in  tone,  and  more  perfect  in  every  respect  than  the  others 
except  the  single  one  of  speed. 

It  is  in  some  measure  so  with  the  nerves  and  muscles  of  the 
arm.  When  the  compositor  takes  into  his  eye,  from  the  copy 
which  lies  before  him  on  the  upper  case,  any  particular  sentence 
or  word,  quite  a  long  nervous  and  muscular  process  has  to  be 
gone  through  before  the  types  representing  the  word  find  their 
places  in  the  composing-stick.  His  mind  first  separates  the  word 
into  its  letters.  His  eye  must  then  point  out  the  several  compart- 
ments, one  after  another,  where  the  letters  are  to  be  found.  His 
hand  must  move  to  them,  and  as  he  brings  each  type  in  toward 
the  stick,  his  eye  must  glance  at  it  for  an  instant  to  catch  the  po- 
sition of  the  nicks,  and  to  direct  the  hand  in  respect  to  the  manner 
in  which  the  type  has  to  be  turned,  and  then  must  be  off  again  in 
an  instant  to  find  the  compartment  which  the  next  letter  is  to 
come  from,  in  order  to  be  ready  to  direct  the  hand  there  the  in- 
stant that  the  first  type  is  placed.  Then,  in  turning  the  type 
over,  and  bringing  it  in  a  right  position  into  its  place  in  the  stick, 
several  separate  motions  of  many  different  fingers  are  necessary, 


COMPOSITION. 


63 


Franklin  amusing  himself  in  his  old  age  with  composing. 


each  of  which  requires  a  distinct  volition  of  the  mind,  and  a  dis- 
tinct transmission  of  orders  down  the  nerves  of  the  arm.  In  a 
word,  the  whole  process,  quick  as  a  skillful  compositor  is  in  the 
performance  of  it,  is  extremely  complicated  in  its  nature,  and  it 
can  only  he  performed  at  the  rate  of  over  a  thousand  ems  the  hour 
by  men  whose  nervous  and  muscular  machinery  is  in  the  most  per- 
fect possible  condition.  There  are  many  men  who,  though  they 
may  be  excellently-well  qualified  for  a  hundred  other  things,  can 
only  make  slow  music  in  composing. 

Still,  to  those  who  perform  it 
well,  it  is  an  easy  and  an  agreea- 
ble occupation.  The  famous  phi- 
losopher and  statesman,  Benjamin 
Franklin,  who  was  a  printer  in 
early  life,  was  accustomed,  in  his 
old  age,  to  amuse  himself  with  set- 
ting types  and  printing  with  his 
own  hand,  in  the  use  of  a  small 
and  convenient  apparatus  made 
expressly  for  the  purpose. 

The  success  of  a  compositor, 
however,  does  not  by  any  means 
depend  altogether  on  these  phys- 
ical advantages.  In  this,  as  in  all  other  labors,  they  who  are  in- 
tent on  their  work,  who  are  diligent  and  persevere,  and  who  give 
their  thoughts  closely  to  what  they  are  doing,  and  are  systematic, 
regular,  and  careful,  so  as  to  make  the  setting  right,  as  nearly  as 


64  COMPOSITION. 


Errors.  Justifying.  The  lines  must  be  all  of  equal  length. 

possible,  the  first  time,  always,  in  the  end,  win  the  day  over  the 
brilliant  geniuses  who  dash  on  carelessly,  right  or  wrong,  and  aft- 
erward lose  a  great  deal  of  their  time  in  correcting  errors ;  for  ev- 
ery compositor  has  his  own  work  to  correct.  I  will  now  describe 
how  this  is  done. 

As  he  goes  on  setting  up  the  type  in  the  composing-stick,  he 
places  a  short  type  at  the  end  of  every  word  to  make  the  space 
which,  on  the  printed  page,  is  to  separate  one  word  from  another. 
When  he  gets  to  the  end  of  a  line,  if  the  work  comes  right,  very 
well ;  if  not,  he  makes  it  right  by  widening  or  narrowing  the  in- 
tervals between  the  words  by  means  of  very  thin  spaces,  kept  for 
the  purpose.  This  process  of  filling  out  the  lines  is  called  justi- 
fying. It  takes  about  a  quarter  as  much  time  to  justify  the  line 
as  it  does  to  pick  up  and  place  the  letters  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed. While  justifying  the  line,  the  eye  of  the  compositor  usu- 
ally runs  along  the  line,  and  detects  most  of  the  errors  that  may 
have  been  made,  and  then  corrects  them  before  he  proceeds.  It 
is,  of  course,  necessary  that  every  line  of  type  should  fill  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  page  or  column  exactly,  so  that  when  the 
page  or  column  is  wedged  up,  the  types  of  every  line  may  be  held 
tight  in  their  places  by  the  pressure  of  their  neighbors.  If  the 
line  is  a  broken  one,  as,  for  instance,  one  at  the  end  of  a  para- 
graph, then  the  whole  remaining  space  is  filled  up  with  pieces  of 
metal  similar  to  those  placed  between  the  words,  only  of  much 
larger  size.  All  this  may  be  seen  plainly  represented  in  the  spec- 
imen which  is  set  up  in  the  composing-stick  on  page  56.  The 
compositor  proceeds,  thus  setting  up  line  after  line  in  his  compos- 


COMPOSITION.  65 


The  rule.  The  galley. 


ing-stick,  until  the  stick  is  full.  In  order  to  keep  the  line  that 
he  is  at  work  upon  separate  from  the  rest,  and  to  facilitate  the 
motion  of  the  types  in  sliding  into  their  places,  he  has  a  small  tin 
or  brass  plate,  called  a  rule,  which  he  takes  out  from  behind  each 
line  as  soon  as  the  line  is  completed,  and  places  it  above,  so  as 
to  make  a  smooth  floor,  as  it  were,  to  set  the  new  line  upon.  With 
this  rule,  too,  he  takes  up  the  whole  mass  of  type  when  the  com- 
posing-stick is  full,  and  places  it  away  on  what  is  called  a  galley. 

The  galley  is  an  oblong  board,  with  a  margin  about  half  an 
inch  high  on  two  sides  of  it,  to  keep  the  types  that  are  placed  on 
it  from  falling  down.  It  requires  great  skill  and  dexterity,  how- 
ever, to  handle  the  types  when  set,  and  to  transfer  them  from  the 
composing-stick  to  the  galleys,  and  to  move  them  about  there,  in 
the  work  of  forming  them  into  pages,  and  such  other  operations. 
With  practice,  the  compositors  acquire  great  dexterity  in  these 
manipulations,  and,  to  the  eye  of  the  observer,  they  move  the 
masses  of  type  about  as  if  they  were  so  many  solid  blocks  of  met- 
al. Sometimes,  however,  an  accident  happens ;  a  mass  of  type 
falls  upon  the  floor,  and  of  course  becomes  a  perfectly  confused 
melange.     This  is  called  pi. 

When  the  galleys  are  full,  the  matter,  as  the  mass  of  type  set 
up  is  called,  is  formed  into  pages,  and  placed  in  a  frame  called  a 
chase  to  be  proved.  A  chase  is  a  frame  of  iron,  divided  into  com- 
partments like  the  sash  of  a  window.  Each  compartment  is  in- 
tended to  contain  one  or  more  pages  of  type,  and  the  frame  is  made 
of  iron,  with  strong  bars  crossing  each  other  to  form  the  compart- 
ments, in  order  that  each  page  of  type  may  be  wedged  in  very 
in  E  f 


66 


COMPOSITION. 


Furniture  and  cjuoins. 


Young  Franklin  carrying  the  forms. 


firmly,  so  as  to  hold  every  type  securely  in  its  place.  To  do  this, 
they  place  small  wooden  bars  along  the  sides  and  ends  of  each 
page,  and  then  drive  wedges  in  between  these  bars  and  the  iron 
sides  of  the  compartment  in  which  the  page  is  placed.  Of  course 
the  compartments  of  the  chase  are  made  larger  than  the  page  or 
pages  intended  to  be  put  in  them,  in  order  to  afford  room  for  these 
bars  and  wedges.  The  printers  call  these  bars  furniture;  the 
wedges  are  called  quoins. 

The  pages  of  type  are 
wedged  up  so  firmly  in 
the  chase  as  to  form,  as  it 
were,  one  solid  and  com- 
pact mass,  which  can  be 
earned  from  place  to  place 
with  perfect  safety.  In 
former  times,  when  it  was 
more  the  custom  than  it  is 
now  to  print  directly  from 
types,  these  forms  had  oft- 
en to  be  carried  to  and  fro 
between  the  composing- 
room  and  the  press-room. 
The  engraving  represents 
Benjamin  Franklin,  when 
a  journeyman  printer,  car- 
rying two  of  them  at  the 
same  time,  to   show   the 


COMPOSITION.  67 


Printing  from  typj.  Stereotyping.  Electrotyping. 

other  workmen  that,  though  he  drank  no  strong  drink,  he  pos- 
sessed as  much  muscular  strength  as  any  of  them. 

The  custom  of  printing  from  standing  type  is  not  wholly  discon- 
tinued, by  any  means,  at  the  present  day.  All  newspapers,  and 
many  books,  are  still  printed  directly  from  the  types.  We  often 
see  these  forms  now,  even  in  the  street,  as  they  are  being  convey- 
ed from  the  composing-rooms,  where  the  types  have  been  set  up 
and  made  ready,  to  the  great  printing-offices  where  they  are  to  be 
worked  on  the  immense  presses  of  modern  times,  driven  by  steam. 
These  forms,  made  up  of  the  types  themselves,  are  very  massive 
and  heavy,  and  there  is  great  inconvenience  in  printing  from  them. 

In  order  to  avoid  printing  directly  from  the  types,  stereotyping 
was  for  a  long  time  in  use.  This  consisted  in  taking  a  mould  in 
plaster  of  Paris  from  each  page  of  type,  and  then  pouring  melted 
type-metal  into  the  mould,  thus  producing  a  perfect  cast  of  the 
surface  of  the  page,  and  the  printing  was  done  from  these  stereo- 
type plates.  Recently,  however,  an  improvement  called  electro- 
typing  has  been  introduced. 

In  the  Harper  Establishment  almost  every  thing  at  present  is 
electrotyped.  The  pages  of  types  are  therefore  only  locked  up 
in  small  chases  containing  one  to  four  pages  each,  for  the  electro- 
typing  process.  The  first  thing  is,  however,  to  make  them  cor- 
rect ;  for,  notwithstanding  all  possible  care  on  the  part  of  the 
compositor,  many  of  the  types  in  every  page  will  be  found,  on  the 
first  trial,  to  be  wrong.  In  order  to  correct  the  errors,  the  form 
containing  the  page  to  be  produced  is  placed  upon  a  small  hand- 
press,  and  an  impression  is  taken.     The  types  are  inked  by  means 

f 


68 


COMPOSITION. 


The  roller  for  inking. 


Composition  of  the  rollers. 


THE   KOLLEK. 


of  a  roller  covered  with 
ink,  which  the  workman 
rolls  back  and  forth  over 
the  pages.  The  form  of 
this  roller  and  the  manner 
of  its  operation  are  seen 
in  the  above  engraving. 

The  ink  is  taken  up  by  the  roller  from  a  sort  of  table  that 
stands  near.  This  ink  is  not  liquid,  like  writing-ink,  but  is  thick 
and  viscid,  like  pitch  ;  and  a  small  quantity  of 
it  is  taken  up  by  the  roller  from  the  table, 
where  it  has  been  previously  spread  out  evenly 
and  thin,  and  is  thence  transferred  to  the  faces 
of  the  types.  In  former  times,  balls  were  used 
for  the  purpose  of  inking  the  type.  These 
balls  were  of  the  form  represented  in  the  ad- 
joining engraving.  The  workman  distributed 
the  ink  evenly  over  the  balls  by  working  and 
rolling  the  faces  of  them  together  by  means  of  the  handles  attach- 
ed to  them,  and  then  he  would  apply  the  ink  from  them  to  the 
faces  of  the  types  in  the  same  manner.  This,  however,  was  a  very 
laborious  and  slow  operation,  and  the  invention  of  the  roller  has 
greatly  facilitated  the  process  of  inking  the  type.     In  the  great 


THE   BALLS. 


*  These  rollers  are  made  of  a  composition  of  glue  and  molasses,  boiled  together,  and 
then  cast  in  iron  moulds,  made  perfectly  smooth  inside.  In  the  centre  of  the  mould 
is  a  wooden  core  passing  through  from  end  to  end,  with  iron  pivots  in  the  extremities 
of  it,  which,  when  the  roller  is  finished,  becomes  the  spindle  on  which  it  revolves. 


PROOFS   AND   CORRECTING.  69 

The  inking.  The  hand-press.  Errors  in  composition. 

power-presses  now  in  general  use  in  all  the  great  printing  estab- 
lishments, there  is  a  system  of  these  rollers  incorporated  in  the  ma- 
chinery, so  that  the  types  of  the  largest  forms  are  inked  without 
any  manual  labor  whatever.  This  will  be  explained  more  fully 
by-and-by. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

PROOFS  AND  CORRECTING. 
The  proof,  that  is,  the  first  impression  from  the  type,  made  to 
enable  the  proof-reader  to  examine  his  work,  and  to  mark  the  nec- 
essary corrections,  is  taken,  as  has  already  been  said,  on  a  small 
press,  in  contradistinction  from  the  power-presses  that  are  worked 
by  steam  and  machinery.  One  or  more  of  these  hand-presses 
stand  in  the  composing-room  for  the  purpose  of  taking  proofs. 
A  view  of  one  of  them  is  given  on  page  116,  where  it  will  be  fully 
described.  The  impression  is  taken  on  a  small  sheet — a  quantity 
of  such  sheets,  previously  dampened,  being  always  ready  at  hand 
for  this  purpose.  The  best  proofs  contain  some  errors,  and  most 
proofs  many.  Words  are  misspelled  by  the  accidental  substitu- 
tion of  one  letter  for  another  ;  spaces  are  omitted  ;  now  and  then  a 
letter  is  wrong  side  up  ;  and  perhaps  a  period  or  a  note  of  interro- 
gation, instead  of  taking  its  place  properly  at  the  end  of  the  sen- 
tence, has  intruded  into  the  middle  of  a  word.  It  would,  I  have 
no  doubt,  amuse  those  of  my  readers  who  have  never  seen  a  proof, 
if  I  were  to  insert  a  specimen  here,  with  all  its  errors,  just  as  they 
appear  when  the  first  impression  is  taken ;  but  if  I  were  to  pro- 

f 


70  PROOFS    AND    CORRECTING. 

Marks  for  correcting  proofs.  Correcting  the  errors. 

pose  to  do  such  a  thing,  I  presume  there  is  not  a  printer  in  the 
Harper  Establishment  who  would  not  be  shocked  at  the  idea  of 
allowing  any  matter  in  such  a  state  to  go  out  into  the  world  at  all, 
on  the  pages  of  such  a  work  as  this,  even  as  a  curiosity. 

When  the  proof  has  been  taken,  the  proof-reader  examines  it 
carefully,  and  marks  all  the  errors.  Printers  have  a  peculiar  set 
of  marks  for  the  purpose  of  calling  the  attention  of  the  compositor 
to  the  several  errors,  and  to  direct  him  how  they  are  to  be  cor- 
rected. The  compositor  takes  the  form  containing  the  pages  of 
type  which  are  to  be  corrected  to  a  sort  of  high  table,  which  is  of  a 
very  solid  and  substantial  construction,  and  there,  after  having 
loosened  the  pages  by  driving  back  the  wedges  by  which  they 
were  "locked  up,"  he  proceeds  to  make  the  corrections  by  taking 
out  the  types  that  were  wrong,  and  putting  in  right  ones  in  their 
place.  In  pulling  up  the  types  that  are  to  come  out,  he  uses  a 
sort  of  bodkin  or  awl,  with  a  sharp  point.  This  he  presses  against 
the  side  of  the  type  that  is  to  come  up,  and  thus  draws  it  out,  and 
then  puts  the  right  one  in  its  place.  When  the  errors  consist  sim- 
ply of  wrong  letters,  the  corrections  are  easily  made ;  but  if  he 
has  omitted  any  word,  or  has  inserted  any  not  found  in  the  copy, 
it  is  more  difficult  to  manage  them.  If  the  word  to  be  put  in  is 
short,  he  can  sometimes  do  it  by  taking  out  the  spaces  between 
the  words  and  putting  in  thinner  ones,  thus  making  room  for  the 
new  word.  So  he  may  sometimes  take  out  a  small  superfluous 
word,  and  fill  out  the  line  by  putting  in  thicker  spaces.  When 
there  are  very  wide  spaces  between  the  words  in  any  line,  it  is 
usually  because  the  compositor  lias  taken  out  a  word  in  this  way. 


PROOFS    AND    CORRECTING.  71 

Reading  the  proof  by  copy.  Distributing  the  type. 

But  lie  is  not  allowed  to  make  the  spacing  so  wide  as  to  injure  the 
appearance  of  the  page.  If  he  can  not  get  in  or  take  out  the  word 
in  this  way,  he  has  to  overrun  the  matter,  as  it  is  called ;  that  is, 
to  carry  forward  one  or  more  words  from  each  line  to  the  next, 
down  to  the  end  of  the  paragraph.  When  the  corrections  are  all 
made,  the  pages  are  locked  up  again,  and  are  then  returned  to  the 
press,  in  order  that  a  new  proof  may  be  taken. 

The  process  of  proving  the  work  is  repeated  several  times  before 
it  is  found  to  be  quite  correct.  Once  it  is  read  over  carefully  "by 
copy,"  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  by  the  manuscript ;  and  finally,  aft- 
er it  seems  to  be  right,  it  is  sent  to  the  author,  that  he  may  give 
it  a  final  revision.  If  he  has  made  his  manuscript  correct  in  the 
first  instance,  and  if  the  compositor  and  proof-reader  have  done 
their  work  properly,  his  revise  will  come  back  with  very  few  marks 
upon  it.  The  final  corrections,  however,  which  the  author  directs, 
having  been  made,  the  pages  are  ready  to  be  sent  to  the  electro- 
typing-room,  in  order  that  a  copper  fac  simile  of  the  face  of  it  may 
be  formed  in  a  thin  plate,  for  more  convenient  handling.  When 
this  is  done,  the  pages  of  type  are  returned  to  the  compositor  who 
set  them  up,  in  order  to  be  distributed. 

The  process  of  distributing  the  type — that  is,  of  putting  back  the 
letters  in  the  several  compartments  of  the  case  where  they  belong, 
seems  very  surprising  to  those  who  first  witness  it,  on  account  of 
the  great  rapidity  with  which  it  is  performed.  The  compositor 
takes  up  a  number  of  lines  of  type  on  his  rule,  having  previously 
wet  the  whole  page.  This  wetting  causes  the  types  to  adhere  to- 
gether slightly,  and  makes  it  much  more  easy  to  manipulate  them. 


72  PROOFS    AND    CORRECTING. 

Importance  of  correct  distribution  Bad  management  of  authors. 

The  compositor  proceeds  to  take  up  several  words  at  a  time,  and 
then,  by  a  very  dexterous  motion,  he  throws  off  the  several  letters 
into  their  various  compartments,  moving  his  hand  for  this  purpose 
with  astonishing  rapidity,  to  and  fro,  all  about  the  case.  A  com- 
positor will  distribute  five  or  six  times  faster  than  he  can  com- 
pose. 

The  "success  of  the  compositor,  in  all  his  work,  depends  very 
much  indeed  upon  the  correctness  of  his  distribution;  for,  of 
course,  if  he  has  wrong  type  in  any  compartment,  those  type  will 
come  up  when  he  is  setting,  and  fill  his  proof  with  errors.  It  is 
very  seldom  that  he  sees  the  face  of  a  type  when  he  is  composing ; 
he  can  not  stop  to  identify  the  letter  in  that  way ;  he  only  looks 
at  the  compartment  from  which  it  comes,  and  at  the  nicks  in  the 
side  of  it,  in  order  to  know  in  what  position  to  place  it.  Of  course, 
the  correctness  of  his  composition  is  greatly  dependent  upon  the 
correctness  of  his  distribution. 

There  is  a  great  difference  in  different  compositors  in  respect  to 
the  accuracy  of  their  work.  Some  proceed  with  so  much  system 
and  care,  that  the  whole  amount  of  correcting  which  their  work 
requires  is  not  more  than  an  hour  or  two  a  week.  Others  have  to 
lose  as  much  time  or  more  every  day.  This,  of  course,  is  so  much 
deducted  from  their  earnings,  since  compositors  are  only  paid  for 
the  amount  of  corrected  work  that  they  do. 

Authors  often  unconsciously  add  to  the  labors  of  the  compos- 
itor by  inconsiderate  management  of  various  kinds,  especially  by 
making  additions  and  alterations  to  their  writing  in  the  proof,  so 
that,  after  the  compositor  has  once  set  up  the  work,  and  taken  a 


PKOOFS    AND   CORKECTTNG.  73 

Follow  copy.  Two  good  rules  for  young  authors. 

great  deal  of  pains,  by  two  or  three  corrections,  to  get  it  precisely 
according  to  the  copy,  and  then  sends  a  proof  to  the  author  to  see 
if  it  is  right,  it  comes  back  marked  with  numerous  changes,  and 
thus  the  work  has  all  to  be  done,  as  it  were,  over  again.  It  would 
seem,  sometimes,  that  the  author  makes  use  of  the  first  labors  of 
the  compositor  merely  to  obtain  a  fair  copy  of  the  manuscript,  in 
order  that  he  may  more  conveniently  correct  and  improve  it.  The 
compositor,  however,  receives  pay  for  making  any  alterations  from 
copy.  He  keeps  an  account  of  the  time  so  employed,  and  charges 
for  them.  This  is,  of  course,  no  more  than  right,  as  his  proper 
business  is  merely  to  "follow  copy." 

There  are  two  rules  to  be  strictly  observed  by  all  persons  who 
write  any  thing  for  the  press : 

1.  Finish  the  writing  of  your  book  or  article  before  you  begin 
the  printing  of  it.  In  other  words,  make  the  copy  perfect,  just  as 
you  wish  the  work  to  appear,  before  you  put  it  into  the  printer's 
hands,  so  that,  if  possible,  no  alterations  whatever  may  be  required 
after  it  is  once  in  type. 

2.  In  preparing  the  copy  which  you  intend  for  the  compositor, 
write  only  on  one  side  of  the  sheet  of  paper,  and  write  in  a  plain, 
distinct,  and  legible  hand,  every  word  in  fall,  and  all  the  para- 
graphs, divisions,  headings,  and  stops,  and  other  marks,  just  as 
you  wish  them  to  appear.  The  compositor's  rule  is  to  conform  to 
the  copy  precisely  in  all  these  particulars.  Indeed,  the  rule  which 
Benjamin  Franklin  gave  to  the  journeymen  in  his  office,  and  which 
is,  in  some  sense,  the  rule  of  all  good  compositors  to  the  present 
day,  was,  Follow  your  copy,  if  you  follow  it  out  of  the  window. 

f 


74  TYPE-FOUNDING. 


Type-founding.  Visit  to  a  foundry.  Conversation  with  the  proprietor. 

It  unfortunately  happens  that  some  authors  are  so  careless  with 
their  manuscripts,  that,  in  following  this  rale  when  setting  up  for 
them,  the  poor  compositor  gets  sent,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  window 
very  often. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TYPE-FOUNDING. 

I  had  often  heard  that  the  making  of  types  was  an  exceedingly 
ingenious  and  curious  process,  and  when  I  had  finished  the  fore- 
going description  of  the  manner  in  which  these  little  wonder-work- 
ers are  set  up,  it  occurred  to  my  mind  that  it  would  be  a  good  plan 
for  me  to  visit  one  of  the  principal  foundries  in  New  York,  and  see 
for  myself  how  the  work  of  manufacturing  them  was  performed. 
I  accordingly  called  upon  the  Messrs.  Harper,  and  asked  one  of 
the  gentlemen  for  the  address  of  one  of  the  foundries  from  which 
they  obtained  their  supplies.  He  accordingly  gave  me  the  ad- 
dress, and  I  immediately  proceeded  to  the  type-founding  establish- 
ment. One  of  the  proprietors  received  me  very  kindly,  and  con- 
ducted me  through  the  rooms  to  witness  the  different  processes. 

"  In  former  times,"  said  he,  as  we  walked  together  up  stairs  in 
going  to  the  upper  stories  of  the  building,  where  the  various  oper- 
ations of  the  manufactory  were  carried  on,  "  in  former  times,  it 
was  customary  to  cast  types  in  little  moulds  held  in  the  hand,  the 
melted  metal  being  poured  in  from  a  small  ladle,  but  now  they  are 
made  far  more  rapidly  by  means  of  a  machine." 

He  also  explained  to  me  the  composition  and  the  properties  of 


TYPE-FOUNDING.  75 


Qualities  of  good  type  metal.  Composition  of  it. 

the  metal  used  for  the  casting.  It  seems  that  it  must  possess  the 
following  properties :  It  must  be  hard,  but  not  too  brittle.  It 
must  also  be  easily  fused,  and  not  subject  to  rust. 

It  must  be  hard ;  for,  if  it  were  soft,  like  lead,  the  face  of  the 
type  would  not  stand  under  the  great  pressure  required  in  print- 
ing, and  the  edges  of  the  letter,  too,  would  be  battered  and  bruised 
from  the  little  knocks  which  the  types  necessarily  get  from  each 
other  in  the  processes  of  being  set  up  and  distributed. 

For  a  similar  reason,  it  must  not  be  brittle,  for  then  the  edges 
would  break  and  crumble. 

It  must  be  easily  fusible.  Iron,  for  example,  does  not  melt  at 
less  than  a  red  heat,  and  it  would  be  extremely  difficult,  if  not  im- 
possible, to  manage  such  small  castings  at  so  great  a  temperature. 

It  must  be  a  metal,  too,  not  subject  to  rust ;  for,  in  using  the 
types,  it  is  often  necessary  to  wet  them,  and  thus,  if  they  were 
made  of  any  easily  oxydizable  metal,  they  would  soon  become 
rusted  and  spoiled.*  For  this  reason,  therefore,  as  well  as  for  the 
other,  iron  would  not  answer  for  types. 

In  fact,  there  is  no  one  simple  metal  that  is  suitable.  There  is 
some  good  and  valid  objection  to  every  one.  The  type-makers 
have,  however,  discovered  a  compound  of  three  metals  which  an- 
swers the  purpose  very  well.      The  three  metals  are  lead,  tin,  and 

*  When  iron  rusts,  the  metal  combines  at  the  surface  with  one  of  the  components 
of  water,  called  oxygen.  This  compound  of  iron  and  oxygen  forms  the  brown  powder 
which  we  call  rust.  Lead,  when  thus  combined  with  oxyxen,  forms  a  white  powder, 
and  sometimes  a  red  powder.  But  lead  will  not  combine  with  the  oxygen  by  simple 
exposure  to  the  atmosphere,  or  contact  with  water,  as  iron  will.  Lead,  therefore,  is 
said  not  to  be  easily  oxydizable. 

f 


76  TYPE-FOUNDING. 


Examination  of  a  specimen.  The  casting-room.  Pin  machine. 

antimony.  Neither  of  them  by  itself  would  make  a  good  type, 
but,  combined  together  in  certain  proportions,  they  form  just  the 
material  that  is  required.  The  compound  melts  easily,  and  it  be- 
comes hard,  but  not  brittle,  when  cold.  Then  there  is  another 
point  which  is  of  great  importance,  namely,  that  it  does  not  shrink 
much  in  cooling.  If  the  metal  were  to  shrink  in  cooling,  then  the 
face  of  the  type  would  lose  its  fullness  and  sharpness  of  form,  and 
thus  become  more  or  less  imperfect  and  irregular. 

While  the  proprietor  of  the  foundry  was  explaining  these  things 
to  me  on  the  way  up  stairs,  he  stopped  at  a  little  office  in  one  of 
the  rooms  to  show  me  some  specimens  of  type  metal.  He  cut 
some  of  these  with  a  knife,  to  let  me  see  how  hard  and  toug-h  the 
metal  was.  It  seemed  to  be  harder  than  lead,  but  not  nearly  so 
hard  as  copper. 

Soon  after  this  we  entered  the  casting-room,  which  was  in  the 
upper  story  of  the  building.  There  was  a  range  of  workmen  all 
around  the  room,  each  busy  casting  type  at  his  little  machine. 
The  machines  had  each  its  own  separate  furnace  and  reservoir  of 
metal,  so  that  they  looked  like  so  many  little  forges  ranged  in  or- 
der all  about  the  room. 

We  walked  up  toward  one  of  the  machines  that  stood  near  a 
window,  to  witness  the  operation  of  it.  I  was  greatly  astonished 
at  the  spectacle.  I  have  seen  very  ingenious  mechanical  contriv- 
ances before — those  for  making  pins,  for  example — where  a  coil  of 
wire  is  drawn  in  at  one  end  of  the  machine,  and  pins  drop  out  of 
the  other  almost  as  fast  as  you  can  count  them.  But  this  seemed 
more  surprising  still,  for  it  was  a  mass  of  hot,  melted  metal,  bub- 


TYPE-FOUNDING. 


77 


Operation  of  the  type  machine. 


Operation  of  it. 


bling  and  simmering,  as  it 
were,  over  its  little  furnace 
that  supplied  the  material. 
By  the  simple  turning  of 
a  crank  on  the  part  of  the 
operator,  as  a  boy  would 
turn  a  small  grindstone  or 
a  coffee-mill,  this  melted 
metal  was  taken  up,  a  lit- 
tle at  a  time,  at  the  upper 
part  of  the  machine,  and 
dropped  out  in  types  he- 
low,  cool  and  solid. 

But  I  must  describe  the 
machine  a  little  more  par- 
ticularly. It  appeared  to 
be  complicated  in  its  con- 
struction, but  the  princi- 
ple of  its  operation,  as  is  usually  the  case,  indeed,  with  all  great 
inventions,  was  very  simple.  The  essential  thing  is  a  mould  to 
cast  the  types  in,  made  in  parts,  so  as  to  open  for  the  purpose 
of  letting  the  type  drop  out,  and  then  to  shut  up  together  again 
very  closely  and  exactly.  The  several  parts  forming  the  mould 
are  so  connected  with  machinery  worked  by  the  crank  that  they 
are  opened  and  shut  again  every  time  the  crank  is  turned  once 
round. 

Besides  this  action  of  opening  and  shutting  the  mould,  with  all 


78  TYPE-FOUNDING. 


The  little  force-pump.  Types  caught  by  an  apron. 

the  complicated  mechanism  which  is  connected  with  it,  it  has  an- 
other movement.  Every  time  the  crank  revolves,  it  is  brought  up 
to  what  might  be  called  the  mouth  of  the  furnace,  to  receive  the 
supply  of  melted  metal,  and  then  is  brought  away  again.  This 
mouth  is  very  small,  the  orifice  not  being  much  larger,  perhaps, 
than  a  large  pin-hole.  At  the  instant  the  mouth  of  the  mould  is 
brought  up  in  contact  with  this  little  opening  by  the  moving  of 
the  crank,  a  jet  of  melted  metal,  just  enough  to  fill  the  mould,  is 
forced  in  by  means  of  a  small  force-pump  in  the  reservoir.  This 
force-pump  is  worked  by  the  same  crank  which  gives  motion  to 
the  mould.  In  a  word,  the  machine  is  so  contrived  that  the  oper- 
ator, by  simply  turning  this  crank,  brings  up  the  mould  to  the 
furnace,  pumps  in  enough  of  metal  for  the  casting  of  one  type, 
withdraws  the  mould,  opens  it  to  let  the  type  drop  out,  and  then 
puts  the  mould  together  again  for  a  fresh  operation. 

The  types,  though  cool  enough  to  be  solid  when  they  drop,  are 
still  very  hot.  They  are  caught,  therefore,  as  they  fall,  upon  a 
little  paper  apron  under  the  machine,  and  thence,  cooling  as  they 
go,  they  are  gradually  shaken  down  by  the  types  that  continue  to 
fall  upon  the  apron  from  above,  and  finally  descend  into  a  box 
placed  a  little  below  to  receive  them. 

The  operation  was  performed  with  astonishing  rapidity.  I  took 
out  my  watch  while  standing  near  one  of  the  fastest  of  the  ma- 
chines, in  order  to  see  how  rapidly  the  types  were  produced  by  it. 
I  found  that  thirty-six  types  were  dropped  in  a  quarter  of  a  min- 
ute, or  over  eight  thousand  in  an  hour.  It  is  true  that  this  ma- 
chine was  casting  small  type,  and  that  it  worked  faster  than  most 


TYPE-FOUNDING.  79 


•  Duties  of  the  type-founder.  Great  care  requisite.  The  jet. 

others  in  the  room.     The  average,  however,  could  not  have  been 
less  than  two  thousand  in  an  hour. 

It  is  by  no  means  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  because  the 
operation  of  the  machine  thus  described  seems  so  simple,  the  arti- 
san who  works  it  has  nothing  to  do  but  to  turn  a  crank.  This  is, 
indeed,  all  the  mechanical  work  that  he  has  to  perform,  but  in  the 
exercise  of  judgment,  skill,  and  discretion,  he  has  a  great  deal  to 
do.  He  must  watch  his  furnace  and  his  reservoir  of  melted  met- 
al, to  see  that  the  metal  is  always  of  the  proper  temperature.  He 
must  be  careful,  too,  that  he  does  not  turn  the  machine  too  fast, 
for  this  would  heat  the  mould  too  much,  and  thus  prevent  the  per- 
fect form  of  the  type.  He  must  continually  keep  his  eye  on  the 
little  orifice  where  the  metal  is  ejected  from  the  reservoir,  to  see 
that  all  is  right  there,  and  that  no  little  globules  of  melted  metal 
remain  on  the  outside  of  it  to  prevent  a  perfect  junction  of  the  face 
of  the  mould  with  the  outside  surface.  In  a  word,  a  person,  to 
be  a  good  type-founder,  notwithstanding  all  the  help  he  obtains 
from  his  machine,  must  be  a  man  of  great  skill,  careful  judgment, 
and  practical  dexterity. 

The  metal,  in  being  injected  or  forced  into  the  mould,  passes 
through  an  opening,  which  forms  a  sort  of  long,  slender  funnel, 
which  enters  at  the  lower  end  of  the  mould.  This  fun- 
nel itself,  as  well  as  the  mould,  becomes  filled  with  met- 
al, so  that,  when  the  type  drops  upon  the  paper  below 
this  metal  remains  attached  to  it  in  the  form  of  a  long 
and  slender  wedge-shaped  projection  called  a  jet,  which 
is  represented    in   the    adjoining   engraving.      This  jet 


80  TYPE-FOUNDINCi. 


Process  of  breaking.  Very  rapid  and  dexterous  performance  of  it.    * 

must,  of  course,  be  removed  in  the  process  of  finishing  the  type. 
Indeed,  the  removing  of  it  is  the  first  step  in  the  finishing  process. 

They  break  it  off.  It  breaks  very  easily,  being  quite  slender 
at  the  point  of  its  junction  with  the  type.  One  would  not  suppose 
that  there  would  be  any  thing  particularly  curious  or  interesting 
in  so  simple  an  operation  as  this,  but  I  found  it  quite  curious, 
on  account  of  the  great  rapidity  with  which  the  boys,  whose  busi- 
ness it  is,  perform  it,  and  the  arrangements  which  were  made  to 
facilitate  the  work.  The  process  is  called  breaking,  and  the  boys 
who  do  it  are  called  breakers. 

The  breaker  is  seated,  when  at  work,  at  a  sort  of  low  table,  with 
sides  all  around  it,  to  prevent  the  types  from  falling  upon  the  floor. 
The  centre  of  the  table  directly  before  him  is  covered  with  a  sort 
of  cushion,  or,  rather,  as  perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  the  bottom  of  the 
box  which  the  table  forms  is  lined  with  a  sort  of  cushion  covered 
with  smooth  leather.  At  one  end  of  the  table,  within  the  box,  is 
a  great  pile  of  types,  with  the  jets  attached  to  them,  just  as  they 
come  from  the  moulds.  These  the  boy  continually  draws  down 
upon  the  surface  of  the  cushion,  where  he  breaks  off  the  jets  from 
them  with  an  inconceivably  rapid  motion  of  the  fingers,  and  then 
separates  the  parts  by  pushing  the  jets  one  way  and  the  types 
another.  The  boy  whom  I  watched  performed  the  operation  so 
rapidly  that,  with  the  closest  observation,  I  could  not  follow  the 
motions  of  his  fingers  at  all,  or  see  by  what  means  he  contrived  to 
accomplish  the  object. 

Of  course,  at  the  point  where  the  jet  was  broken  off,  the  mark 
of  the  fracture  would  remain  at  the  end  of  the  type,  producing  a 


TYPE-FOUNDING.  81 


Rubbing.  Description  of  the  stones.  Mould  not  perfectly  tight. 

sort  of  blemish.  It  was  curious  to  see  how  simply  and  easily  this 
mark  was  afterward  removed.  A  long  row  of  the  types  were  set 
up  together,  side  by  side,  in  a  long  and  slender  frame,  and  then  a 
little  plane,  the  rim  of  which  came  almost  to  a  point,  and  was  ground 
at  the  end  to  the  form  of  an  exceedingly  small  gouge,  was  passed 
along  the  whole  line,  and  thus,  by  a  single  stroke  of  the  tool,  the 
fractured  portion  was  cut  out  from  the  ends  of  hundreds  of  types 
at  a  time. 

The  next  process  to  breaking  was  what  was  called  rubbing. 
The  rubbing  was  the  work  of  women  and  girls.  The  room  where 
this  operation  was  performed  had  two  or  three  long  low  tables  ex- 
tending through  it  from  end  to  end,  with  what  seemed  to  be  a  row 
of  grindstones  lying  upon  them.  These  stones  were  large  and  not 
very  thick,  and  they  were  lying  on  their  sides  upon  the  tables. 
The  upper  surface  of  them  seemed  to  be  very  level  and  fiat,  and 
were  of  about  the  roughness  of  sand-paper.  Before  each  stone  sat 
a  female  operative  rubbing  types.  The  object  of  this  rubbing  was 
to  smooth  the  sides  of  the  type,  and  to  remove  a  little  thin  pro- 
jection of  metal  which  is  apt  to  be  left,  after  the  casting,  at  the 
edges.  This  projection  is  caused  by  the  protrusion  of  the  metal 
a  little  way  into  the  joints  of  the  mould ;  for  the  mould,  you  will 
recollect,  is  made  of  several  distinct  parts,  which  open  after  the 
casting,  to  allow  the  type  to  drop  out,  and  then  shut  together  again. 
Now  it  is  not  possible  to  make  these  joints  perfectly  tight,  I  sup- 
pose. Indeed,  it  is  necessary  to  allow  sufficient  opening  to  permit 
the  escape  of  the  air,  for  the  metal  can  not  enter  the  mould  any 
faster  than  the  air  which  was  previously  in  it  can  go  out.  Now 
10  F  / 


82  TYPE-FOUNDINU. 


Account  of  the  process  of  rubbing.  Setting.  Types  placed  in  rows. 

the  metal  itself,  at  the  moment  of  casting,  will  protrude  a  little  way 
into  these  interstices,  and  to  remove  the  protrusions  thus  formed 
is  one  object  of  the  rubbing. 

The  girl  takes  up  a  handful  of  types,  and  lays  them  down,  side 
by  side,  on  the  stone.  She  takes  ten  or  twenty  at  a  time.  She 
then  lays  two  of  her  fingers  across  the  types,  and,  by  a  sweep  of 
her  arm  to  and  fro,  she  rubs  them  back  and  forth  on  the  fiat  sur- 
face of  the  stone.  This  smooths  and  evens  the  under  sides  of  the 
types.  Then  she  brings  the  types  to  the  edge  of  the  stone,  so  as 
to  allow  the  ends  of  the  whole  row  to  project  a  little,  and  by  a 
very  dexterous  movement— so  dexterous  and  quick,  indeed,  that 
you  will  have  to  look  very  closely  to  follow  it — she  turns  them  all 
over  together,  and  then  proceeds  to  rub  the  other  side,  and  finally 
pushes  them  into  a  box  ready  near  the  stone  to  receive  them. 

After  a  time,  the  stones,  I  was  told,  become  glazed  over,  as  it 
were,  by  the  rubbing  of  the  types  upon  them,  and  then  it  becomes 
necessary  to  restore  the  roughness  of  the  surface  before  they  can 
be  used  any  more.      This  is  done  by  grinding  them  with  sand. 

The  next  process  is  setting.  This  consists  of  the  work  of  ar- 
ranging the  types  in  rows  for  inspection  and  for  the  final  finishing. 
The  setters  are  usually  small  girls.  The  types  are  taken  up  by 
them  from  a  box,  where  they  lie  in  bulk,  and  are  placed  in  a  row 
upon  a  long  stick,  like  a  yard-stick.  It  is  astonishing  to  witness 
the  rapidity  of  motion  and  the  accuracy  which  these  girls  display 
in  taking  up  and  placing  the  types,  arranging  them  all  the  same 
way,  that  is,  with  the  same  side  toward  them,  and  the  letter  faces 
all  turned  downward.     In  the  first  instance,  the  girls  set  the  types 


TYPE-POUNDING. 


83 


Picture  of  the  dresser  examining  the  types  with  a  magnifying-glass. 


in  a  shorter  stick,  much  like  a  composing-stick  in  respect  to  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  used,  only  it  is  eight  or  ten  inches  long,  and 
just  wide  enough  for  one  row  of  types.  As  fast  as  this  stick  be- 
comes full,  the  girls  transfer  the  row  of  types  to  the  long  stick, 
which  lies  on  a  little  shelf  before  them,  and  when  this  is  full  the 
whole  line  is  made  ready  to  he  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  dresser. 

This  brings  us  to  the 
next  operation,  which  is 
that  of  dressing  the  type. 
The  dresser  carefully  ex- 
amines them,  and  rejects 
those  that  are  imperfect 
and  bad,  and  then  trims 
those  that  are  perfect  to 
an  exact  and  a  uniform 
standard.  The  casting, 
to  be  sure,  leaves  them 
nearly  uniform,  but  not 
quite.  It  is  the  last  fin- 
ishing touch  to  form  the 
types  which  the  dresser 
gives  to  them.  For  this 
object,  he  arranges  them 
on  an  instrument  which 
has  the  appearance  of  a 
very  long  rule.  There 
is  a  ledge  below  for  the  foot  of  the  types  to  stand  upon,  and  a  sort 

f 


THE    DKEsSBU 


84  TYPE-FOUNDING. 


Very  close  examination  required.  Rapid  manipulations. 

of  chock  at  each  end,  one  of  which  is  movable,  and  works  by  a 
screw.  By  means  of  these,  the  types,  when  necessary,  may  be  all 
clamped  together.  The  dresser  arranges  his  types  in  a  line  on 
this  rule,  and  places  them  in  a  strong  light  at  a  table  opposite 
the  window.  They  stand  there  before  him  in  a  strong  and  glitter- 
ing row,  like  a  long  line  of  soldiers  waiting  for  inspection.  Hold- 
ing a  little  awl  or  bodkin  in  his  right  hand,  and  in  his  left,  close  to 
his  eye,  a  small  magnifying-glass,  he  passes  his  glass  along  the 
line,  looking  closely  at  the  face  of  every  type.  All  that  are  per- 
fect he  passes  ;  but,  whenever  he  sees  any  little  blemish  or  imper- 
fection on  the  surface  of  the  metal  which  forms  the  face  of  the  let- 
ter, he  instantly  pulls  the  type  forward  out  from  among  its  fellows 
with  his  bodkin,  and  it  drops,  condemned  and  disgraced,  into  an 
apron  placed  below  to  receive  it,  whence  it  is  sent  back  in  due 
time  to  the  melting-pot,  to  try  its  chance  again.  As  near  as  I 
could  judge,  something  like  one  tenth  of  the  types  were  thus  con- 
demned. 

The  types  that  pass  inspection  are  then  screwed  up  together  to 
receive  their  final  trimming,  the  dresser  maneuvering  and  manip- 
ulating them  for  this  purpose  with  surprising  dexterity,  causing 
them  to  change  front,  face  about,  and  turn,  now  this  side  toward 
him  and  now  that,  all  together,  with  an  adroitness  that  would  as- 
tonish the  most  skillful  general  that  ever  maneuvered  soldiers  on 
parade. 

It  is  in  the  course  of  this  process  of  dressing  that  the  workman 
planes  out  the  mark  of  the  fracture  left  at  the  foot  of  the  type  by 
breaking  off  the  jet,  as  has  before  been  explained. 


MOULDS    FOR    TYPE-FOUNDING.  85 

Types  packed  for  sale.  Modern  improvements  in  the  art  of  printing  Moulds. 

When  the  dressing  process  has  been  completed,  the  types  are 
finished.  They  are  then  set  up  together  solid,  in  square  blocks  of 
about  the  size  of  one  of  these  pages,  those  of  the  same  letter  or 
character  together.  These  blocks  are  then  carefully  enveloped  and 
packed,  and  are  ready  for  sale. 

The  quantity  of  metal  thus  cast  into  types  at  the  establishment 
that  I  visited  amounts  to  not  less  than  500,000  pounds  every 
year,  and  nearly  two  hundred  hands  are  constantly  employed  in 
the  various  processes.  This  fact  alone  shows  on  how  magnificent 
a  scale  the  printing  operations  of  the  present  day  are  conducted. 
One  of  the  results  of  the  progress  which  the  printing  art  has  thus 
made  is,  that  more  copies  of  the  Bible  are  now  printed  in  two 
years  than  the  whole  number  that  had  ever  been  printed  before 
the  commencement  of  the  present  century  since  the  art  of  printing 
was  discovered. 

It  is  very  probable  that  in  respect  to  the  printing  of  books  and 
newspapers  the  advance  has  been  greater  still. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MOULDS    FOR   TYPE-FOUNDING. 

The  process  of  forming  the  types  themselves  from  the  melted 
metal,  nice  and  curious  as  it  is,  is  by  no  means  the  most  delicate 
and  difficult  part  of  the  type-founder's  work.  The  great  thing  is 
the  making  of  the  mould,  or,  rather,  of  that  part  of  the  mould  by 
which  the  face  of  the  letter  is  formed.  The  part  in  question  is 
called  the  matrice,  because  it  is  the  mother,  as  it  were,  of  all  the 

f 


86  MOULDS   FOR   TYPE-FOUNDING. 


Picture  of  a  matrice.  Description  of  it.  The  punches. 

types  that  are  cast  in  it.      The 
matrice  is  a  short  and  thick  bar 
or  block  of  copper,  with  the  form 
the  matrice.  0f  t]ie  letter  which  it  is  intended 

to  produce  from  it  stamped  in  one  of  the  four  sides  of  it,  near  the 
end.  It  is  about  as  long  as  a  type,  but  a  great  deal  broader  and 
thicker.  Of  course,  there  must  be  a  separate  matrice  for  every 
separate  letter  or  character.  The  matrices  are  all  of  the  same 
length,  and  are  so  made  that  any  of  them  that  belong  to  the  same 
set  can  be  inserted  into  any  mould,  though  the  letters  and  charac- 
ters which  are  stamped  upon  them  are  of  course  different  in  each 
different  matrice. 

In  every  machine  or  mould  for  casting  type  there  is  a  place  for 
inserting  the  matrice,  and  the  founder  can  put  in  any  one  he 
pleases,  according  to  the  type  or  character  which  he  wishes  to  cast. 
The  matrice  is  so  placed  in  the  mould  that  the  part  on  which  the 
letter  is  stamped  comes  exactly  opposite  the  head  of  the  type,  and 
thus  the  metal,  at  the  moment  of  casting,  flows  into  the  stamped 
depression,  and  forms  the  letter  that  is  stamped  upon  the  matrice, 
Avhatever  it  may  be. 

Thus  we  see  very  easily  how  the  letters  are  formed  on  the  types 
by  means  of  the  impression  in  the  matrice,  but  now  the  question 
arises  how  the  impressions  in  the  matrices  are  made.  The  an- 
swer is,  that  they  are  stamped  in  the  copper  by  means  of  what  are 
called  punches.  By  examining  the  engraving  on  the  following 
page,  the  reader  will  be  able  to  form  a  pretty  correct  opinion  of 
how  punches  are  made. 


MOULDS   FOR   TYPE-FOUNDING. 


87 


Mode  of  making  the  punches. 


Drives. 


Complicated  process. 


THE    rUBCUES 


The  punch  consists  of  a  small  steel 
rod,  with  a  letter  cut  upon  one  end, 
and  a  flat  head,  to  receive  the  blow  of 
a  hammer,  at  the  other.  The  punch- 
es are  about  two  or  three  inches  long, 
and  are  made  of  the  best  and  hardest 
steel.  The  letter  is  cut  upon  them  by  hand,  in  the  use  of  chisels, 
files,  and  other  such  instruments  ;  and  as  the  form  and  fashion  of 
all  the  impressions  in  the  matrices,  and  of  all  the  castings  on  the 
types,  and  of  all  the  letters  in  the  printed  books  which  may  come 
from  them,  depend  upon  their  shape  and  finish,  the  utmost  possi- 
ble pains  is  taken  in  perfecting  them. 

The  letters  are  formed  in  the  matrice  by  means  of  the  punch, 
the  letter  end  of  it  being  driven  into  the  copper  by  the  blow  of 
a  hammer.  A  man  who  owns  a  set  of  punches  often  sells  a  set 
of  impressions  from  them  to  a  type-founder,  to  save  the  founder 
the  expense  of  making  the  punches  himself.     He  calls  it  selling 

drives. 

Thus,  in  coming  to  the  punches,  we  come  at  last  to  the  point 
where  the  form  of  the  letter  has  its  actual  origin.  It  begins  with 
the  punch,  the  punch  makes  the  matrice,  the  matrice  makes  the 
type,  and  the  type  makes  the  electrotype,  and  the  electrotype 
makes  the  letter  on  the  printed  page.  Thus  every  letter  which 
you  see  in  this  book  has  come  to  you  through  all  these  five  differ- 
ent forms. 

This  seems,  at  first  view,  to  be  taking  a  great  deal  of  trouble ; 
'  but,  »on  reflection,  we  shall  see  that  the  process  is  admirably  calcu- 


88  MOULDS    FOR   TYPE-FOUNDING. 

Advantages  of  the  system.  Immense  multiplication  of  results. 

lated  to  save  labor  and  trouble.  If,  for  example,  every  type  were 
formed  by  itself,  by  cutting  out  the  letter  upon  the  end  of  it  with 
chisels  and  files,  instead  of  casting  it  in  a  matrice,  the  work  of 
forming  them  would  be  pretty  much  the  same  as  that  of  making 
the  punches — a  day's  labor  nearly  to  each  one  ;  whereas  now  they 
are  cast,  as  we  have  seen,  at  the  rate  of  from  two  thousand  to  eight 
thousand  in  an  hour.  So  in  respect  to  the  matrices.  To  form  a 
matrice  by  means  of  cutting-tools  would  be  even  more  laborious 
and  troublesome  than  the  making  of  a  punch,  and  there  would  be 
only  one  matrice  when  it  was  done.  But  the  punch,  once  finished, 
is  the  means  of  making  hundreds  of  matrices,  each  being  formed 
at  a  blow. 

The  effect  of  the  whole  system  in  respect  to  the  multiplication 
of  results  is  amazing,  as  will  be  readily  seen  by  the  following  cal- 
culation :  One  punch  will  make  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  mat- 
rices. These  matrices,  distributed  in  the  various  machines  of  many 
different  founders,  will  cast  each  many  millions  of  types,  making 
many  hundreds  of  millions  of  types  from  one  punch.  Each  of 
these  types  used  in  electrotyping  will  give  from  five  hundred  to 
one  thousand  electrotype  copies,  and  every  electrotype  used  in 
printing  will  give  a  million  of  impressions  on  a  printed  page.  This 
makes  an  aggregate  of  many  thousands  of  millions  of millions  .of 
printed  letters  from  one  single  father  punch,  the  common  progen- 
itor of  all.  This  is  no  imaginary  or  fanciful  calculation.  It  is  a 
fair  and  honest  statement  of  the  actual  powers  of  the  system  as 
now  in  constant  operation,  and  it  is  in  consequence  of  this  enor- 
mous multiplication  of  results  that  the  art  of  printing  is  enabled" 


MOULDS    FOR    TYPE-FOUNDING.  89 

Care  in  making  the  punches.  Great  number  and  variety  required. 

to  perform  such  wonders,  and  to  exert  such  an  influence  as  it  does 
on  the  destinies  of  man. 

Of  course,  a  punch  that  is  to  exert  so  wide-spread  an  influence 
in  the  world  well  deserves  that  no  pains  or  expense  should  be 
spared  in  giving  it,  at  the  outset,  the  most  perfect  possible  form. 
Consequently,  the  cutting  and  the  polishing  of  the  punches  is  one 
of  the  most  delicate  and  important  of  all  the  processes  connected 
with  the  typographical  art.  The  punches  are,  consequently,  very 
costly,  and  a  good  set  of  them  is  highly  prized.  A  very  large 
number,  too,  are  required  in  every  extensive  foundry.  One  might 
at  first  suppose  that  a  few  hundred  would  be  enough,  as  there  are 
only  twenty-four  letters  in  the  alphabet,  and  a  comparatively  small 
number  of  stopt,  and  marks  besides.  But,  instead  of  a  few  hund- 
reds, many  thousands  are  required.  In  the  first  place,  there  must 
be  two  sets  of  capitals,  and  one  set  each  for  Roman  and  Italic  let- 
ters, and  one  set  for  figures,  for  every  size  of  type.  These,  with 
the  necessary  stops  and  other  characters,  make  at  least  three 
hundred  punches  for  every  size.  Then  the  number  of  sizes  and 
styles  of  letters  in  ordinary  use  is  very  large,  so  that  there  is 
scarcely  any  limit  to  the  number  and  variety  of  punches  that  are 
required.  They  amounted,  in  the  establishment  that  I  was  vis- 
iting, to  many  thousands,  and  the  value  of  them  was  from  thirty 
to  forty  thousand  dollars.  The  value  of  the  matrices,  too,  was 
about  the  same. 

I  went  to  see  the  iron  safes  where  this  valuable  property  was 
deposited.  These  safes — which  are  the  same  with  those  custom- 
arily used  by  the  New  York  merchants  for  keeping  their  account- 


90  MOULDS    FOR    TYPE-FOUNDING. 

The  safes  where  the  punches  and  matrices  are  kept. 

Looks  and  other  valuables  from  thieves  and  fire — are  great  iron 
chests,  made  movable  on  monstrous  castors,  with  walls  eight  or 
ten  inches  thick  all  around.  These  walls  are  formed  inside  and 
out  of  thick  plates  of  iron,  bolted  together  in  the  most  substantial 
manner,  and  filled  in  with  a  mineral  composition  peculiarly  adapt- 
ed to  resist  the  action  of  fire.  The  doors  are  of  the  same  con- 
struction as  the  walls,  and  they  move,  of  course,  very  slowly  and 
heavily  on  their  massive  hinges. 

The  first  safe  that  I  visited  contained  punches,  and  the  whole 
interior  of  it  was  filled  with  a  system  of  small  shallow  drawers, 
each  of  which  contained  a  number  of  round  tin  boxes,  in  which 
the  punches  were  packed,  those  of  the  same  size  in  the  same  box. 
They  were  packed  in  an  upright  position,  with  the  letters  on  the 
upper  end  of  them. 

I  afterward  went  to  see  the  safes  that  contained  the  matrices. 
There  were  two  of  these  safes,  and  they  were  much  larger  than  the 
one  which  I  had  first  visited,  for  the  matrices  are  far  more  nu- 
merous than  the  punches.  These  safes,  too,  were  filled  with  little 
drawers,  all  of  which  were  appropriately  numbered  and  labeled  ac- 
cording to  the  denomination,  style,  and  character  of  the  letters 
which  the  matrices  that  they  contained  were  intended  to  make. 
The  contents  of  these  safes  were  of  very  great  value.  In  addition 
to  the  usual  securities  for  the  protection  of  them  in  case  of  fire, 
they  were  banded  very  strongly  with  thick  bars  of  iron,  made  to 
close  over  the  doors  after  they  were  shut,  and  to  lock  independ- 
ently of  them.  The  object  of  these  bands  was  to  assist  in  pre- 
venting the  safe  from  bursting  open  when  falling  through  the  floors 


MOULDS    FOR    TYPE-FOUNDING.  91 

Fall  of  heavy  safes  in  case  of  fire.  Great  strength  required. 

of  the  building  into  the  cellar  in  case  of  a  fire ;  for  always,  when 
a  building  is  burned  that  contains  safes  of  this  character  in  the 
upper  stories,  the  safes,  as  soon  as  the  timbers  of  the  floor  on 
which  they  stand  are  weakened  by  the  fire,  break  through,  and  fall 
with  a  dreadful  crash  down  through  all  the  other  floors  into  the 
cellar.  Indeed,  so  great  is  the  force  of  the  fall  of  these  safes  some- 
times, that  they  bring  down  the  walls  of  the  building  with  them, 
the  ends  of  the  floor-timbers  being  built  into  the  walls  in  such 
a  manner  that  when  the  timbers  are  broken  off  and  borne  down  in 
the  inside,  the  walls  are  pried  over  as  by  a  lever,  and  come  down 
with  a  dreadful  crash  and  confusion  into  the  street,  overwhelming 
and  burying  the  firemen,  perhaps,  in  the  ruin. 

The  safes  of  a  type-foundry  are  peculiarly  heavy,  being  filled, 
not  with  books  and  accounts,  or  other  comparatively  light  articles, 
but  with  pieces  of  metal,  which,  though  individually  small,  are  so 
numerous,  and  so  closely  packed,  that  the  whole  safe,  in  respect  to 
its  heaviness,  is  very  much  as  if  it  were  one  solid  mass  of  iron  six 
feet  square  and  three  feet  deep.  Of  course,  so  ponderous  a  body 
as  this,  in  falling  fifty  or  sixty  feet  through  the  floors  of  a  burning 
building,  must  come  down  to  the  cellar  floor  with  a  tremendous 
concussion,  and  there  would  be  most  imminent  danger  that  it  would 
burst  itself  open,  unless  its  fastenings  were  secured  in  the  strong- 
est possible  manner. 

Indeed,  the  whole  building  used  for  the  purposes  of  a  type-foun- 
dry must  be  made  extremely  strong,  on  account  of  the  great  weight 
which  almost  every  part  of  it  has  to  carry.  The  packages  of  types, 
of  course,  as  arranged  on  the  shelves  of  the  store-room,  ready  to  be 

/ 


92  MOULDS   FOR   TYPE-FOUNDING. 

Comparative  quantities  required  of  different  letters. 

boxed  for  their  various  destinations,  are  as  heavy  almost  as  so 
many  blocks  of  solid  metal.  I  saw  one  set  of  very  strong  and 
massive  shelves,  perhaps  ten  feet  wide,  and  ten  feet  high  in  all, 
which  contained  packages  of  type  that  weighed,  in  all,  I  was  in- 
formed, not  less  than  ten  tons.  The  whole  solid  stock  of  type  on 
hand  in  the  establishment  weighed  usually  not  less  than  forty  or 
fifty  tons. 

In  fitting  up  the  types  for  use,  those  of  each  letter  are  put  to- 
gether in  a  package  by  itself,  so  that  one  package,  when  opened,  is 
found  to  be  all  «'s,  another  all  £'s,  and  so  on.  The  reader  might 
perhaps  suppose,  at  first  thought,  that  the  number  of  types  for  each 
letter  of  the  alphabet  would  be  equal.  But  this  is  by  no  means 
the  case,  for  some  letters  occur  much  more  frequently  than  others, 
and,  of  course,  more  types  of  them  are  required  in  proportion  than 
of  the  others. 

For  example,  almost  twice  as  many  are  required  of  the  letter  e 
as  of  any  other  letter,  for  the  e  occurs  twice  as  frequently  as  any 
other  letter  of  the  alphabet  in  the  English  language.  This  sub- 
ject has  already  been  referred  to  in  describing  the  setting  of  type. 
Next  to  the  letter  e,  the  letters  a,  n,  and  o  are  most  common.  For 
every  seven  pounds  of  e's  they  usually  put  about  four  pounds  of 
a's,  ?i's,  and  o's  ;  that  is,  a  little  more  than  one  half  as  many.  The 
most  unfrequent  letters  are  q,  x,  and  z.  Of  each  of  these  only  one 
quarter  of  a  pound  are  required  for  every  seven  pounds  of  e's, 
which  is  in  the  proportion  of  one  to  twenty-eight. 

It  is  surprising  what  a  variety  of  effects  can  be  produced  by 
type  made  in  this  way,  from  matrices  formed  by  punches  of  steel. 


MOULDS    FOE   TYPE-FOUNDING.  93 

Specimen  of  script  type.  Great  variety  of  punches  made. 

There  is  a  style  of  type  in  which  the  letters  seem  to  touch  each 
other  on  the  printed  page,  and  form  what  appears  to  be  a  contin- 


Jzj  >4   nine)   inwdafoon/  jfofi*    Oynatdc/cw/Q- 
GMonaa'?/^)    'mamma 

This  is  called  script  type.  It  looks  quite  continuous,  like  real 
writing ;  but  if  you  examine  it  very  closely,  especially  with  a  mi- 
croscope, you  will  see  a  slight  division  in  the  hair-line  which  unites 
each  letter  with  the  one  that  precedes  and  follows  it.  These  di- 
visions denote  the  points  of  junction  between  the  several  types  as 
they  stand  in  the  line. 

A  great  many  different  styles  of  ornamental  borders  are  made 
in  the  same  way,  that  is,  by  means  of  separate  types,  the  figure  on 
each  of  which  is  carried  out  so  close  to  the  edge  of  it  as  to  come 
almost  into  absolute  contact  with  the  corresponding  parts  of  the 
figure  on  the  next  type.  Thus,  in  the  printing,  the  effect  of  a  con- 
tinuous border  is  produced.  Type-founders  invent  an  infinite  va- 
riety of  these  borders,  each  differing  from  the  rest  in  style  and  de- 
sign.    On  the  next  page  is  a  small  specimen  of  one  of  them. 

These  borders  are  used  to  form  ornamental  margins  for  cards, 
certificates,  catalogues,  and  other  similar  publications,  and  some- 
times, too,  for  the  pages  of  printed  books.     I  insert  a  specimen 

/ 


94 


MOULDS    FOR  TYPE-FOUNDING. 


Farther  specimens  of  what  can  be  done  by  means  of  punches. 


<?gfr  -v,  fy\g>  y,  fig^  jA  ^i^ . 


mwyjMm  ®i?  mm,TT 


3YfaH(  6i|ebeHi 


here  to  show  how 
^g-g^-iicjMtrj  great  is  the  variety 
of  work  accomplish- 
ed by  the  punch,  and 
how  nice  must  he  the 
skill  of  the  cutter  to 
work  such  line  and 
complicated  designs 
in  the  solid  metal. 
_ra  Many  of  these  bor- 


t5v5y 


ders  are  very  large 
and  exceedingly  elaborate.  Others  are  small  and  very  delicate 
in  style  of  execution,  and  by  varying  the  combinations  of  them  a 
great  variety  of  effects  may  be  produced.  In 
the  margin  is  a  small  circle  formed  by  ar- 
ranging together  the  four  corner  types  of  a 
particular  border,  with  a  specimen  of  fine  print- 
ing within  it,  which  shows  to  how  great  a  de- 
gree of  minuteness  the  work  of  cutting  the 
punches  is  sometimes  carried. 
And  here  I  will  close  the  account  of  this  curious  manufacture, 
only  adding  that  the  types  made  where  the  English  language  is 
spoken  are  by  no  means  restricted  to  the  English  language  in 
speaking  themselves.  They  can  talk  in  any  language  in  which 
the  alphabetic  characters  are  the  same  as  in  our  own.  Thus  the 
progeny  of  the  same  punch,  formed  by  an  American  workman  in 
New  York,  are  scattered  in  innumerable  thousands  over  the  world. 


MOULDS  FOR   TYPE-FOUNDING.  95 

Types  can  speak  in  many  different  languages. 

They  talk  Spanish  in  Mexico,  Portuguese  in  Brazil,  and  French 
in  New  Orleans  or  Montreal.  They  are  employed,  too,  in  every 
variety  of  duty.  Some,  in  spelling-books  or  primers,  are  set  to  the 
work  of  teaching  millions  of  little  children  in  schools  to  read  and 
spell.  Others,  that  came  out,  perhaps,  originally  side  by  side  with 
the  former  from  the  same  matrice,  are  employed  in  Latin  diction- 
aries, or  in  new  and  beautiful  editions  of  the  ancient  classics,  to 
aid  the  learned  researches  of  scholars  in  colleges  and  universities. 
Some  amuse  in  books  of  romance.  Others,  the  brothers  and  sis- 
ters of  the  former,  puzzle  and  perplex  in  books  of  mathematics. 
Some  go  to  Washington,  and  make  fierce  political  speeches,  now 
in  favor  of  one  party,  and  now  in  favor  of  the  other,  equally  in- 
different to  both ;  others  to  a  Bible  House  or  a  Tract  House,  and 
earnestly  plead  the  cause  of  human  salvation  ;  while  others  still 
devote  their  lives  to  the  fireside  entertainment  and  instruction  of 
thousands  of  families  through  the  pages  of  story-books  or  maga- 
zines. All  this  time  the  parent  punch  from  whom  they  all  sprung- 
remains  wholly  unconscious  of  the  immense  diffusion  of  his  off- 
spring, and  of  the  vastly  varied  character  of  the  duties  which  they 
are  severally  called  upon  to  fulfill.  He  pays  no  heed  to  these  in- 
calculable results  of  what  he  has  already  done,  and  least  of  all  does 
he  show  any  disposition  to  be  satisfied  with  them.  His  duty  is 
to  go  on  producing ;  so  he  holds  well  to  his  temper  and  to  his  edge, 
and  keeps  steadily  on,  adding  continually,  through  the  new  mat- 
rices that  he  produces,  millions  and  millions  more  to  his  already 
innumerable  progeny. 

r 


96  ELECTRO-TYPING. 


Advantages  of  the  electrotyping  process.  The  plate. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ELECTROTYPING. 

The  electrotyping  process  is  one  which  has  been  discovered 
within  a  very  few  years,  and  it  very  greatly  facilitates  all  printing 
operations  which  are  carried  on  upon  an  extensive  scale.  It  con- 
sists in  producing  from  the  solid  page  of  types,  or  of  types  and  en- 
graved blocks  together — which,  of  course,  is  very  heavy  and  un- 
wieldy— a  plate  of  copper,  with  all  the  faces  of  the  letters  and  the 
lines  of  the  engravings  precisely  repeated  on  the  side  of  it,  just  as 
they  appear  in  the  solid  page  which  the  compositor  had  set  up. 
The  original  page  of  the  types  can  then  be  sent  back  to  the  com- 
posing-room and  distributed,  and  the  new  and  comparatively  light, 
thin  copper  plate  can  be  used  to  print  from  in  its  stead. 

The  electrotype  plate  is  about  three  sixteenths  of  an  inch  in 
thickness.  In  length  and  breadth,  of  course,  it  corresponds  with 
the  size  of  the  page  that  it  was  made  from.  The  face  of  it  is  of 
copper  ;  the  back  of  it,  including  the  principal  portion  of  its  thick- 
ness, is  of  type-metal. 

When  it  is  to  be  used  in  printing,  it  is  placed  upon  a  block  of 
wood  of  such  a  thickness  that  the  block  and  the  plate  together 
shall  equal  the  thickness  of  the  original  page  of  type.  The  block 
is  provided  with  a  pair  of  clamps  to  secure  the  plate  in  its  place. 
The  upper  ends  of  these  clamps  are  seen  in  the  engraving,  on  the 
edge  of  the  block  that  is  toward  us,  projecting  over  the  edge  of  the 


ELECTROTYPING. 


97 


Blocking  electrotype  plates. 


The  clamps. 


Engraving  of  a  block. 


plate,  which  is  beveled  to  receive  them.  The  back  edge  of  the 
plate  is  also  beveled,  and  passes  under  two  fixtures  projecting  on 
that  side,  which  are  attached  firmly  to  the  block.  The  clamps  on 
the  hither  side  are  movable,  being  made  so  that  they  can  be  drawn 
back  or  driven  forward  by  means  of  the  toothed  wheels,  which  are 
seen  near  the  back  edge  of  the  block.      These  wheels  are  each  con- 


BLOCKING    THE    PLATE. 


structed  with  a  brass  rod,  which  serves  as  an  axle,  and  communi- 
cates with  the  clamps  on  the  front  side  of  the  plate.  The  rods  are 
connected  with  these  clamps  by  a  screw,  so  that,  by  turning  the 
toothed  wheels,  the  clamps  may  be  drawn  in  over  the  edge  of  the 
plate,  and  thus  made  to  hold  it  down  securely  on  the  face  of  the 
block.  The  other  side  of  the  plate  is  held  down,  of  course,  by  the 
10  G  / 


98  ELECTKOTYPING. 


How  the  thin  copper  plate  is  strengthened. 


beveled  edge  being  brought  close  under  the  fixed  clamps  on  that 
side. 

The  instrument  with  which  the  toothed  wheels  are  worked,  both 
in  fastening  in  the  plate  and  loosening  it  again  when  required,  is 
seen  above,  as  held  when  in  use  by  the  workman. 

The  plate,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  engraving,  is  quite  thin.  It 
shows  on  the  upper  surface  a  map,  occupying  the  centre  of  the 
page,  with  a  few  lines  of  letter-press  above  and  below.  Of  course, 
in  forming  this  page,  the  wooden  block  on  which  the  map  was  en- 
graved was  placed  in  the  centre,  and  the  lines  of  type,  after  being  set 
up  in  the  composing-stick,  were  placed  at  each  end.  The  whole 
page  was  then  wedged  up  in  a  chase,  and  sent  to  the  electrotyper. 

The  upper  surface  of  the  electrotype  only — that  is,  the  one  which 
contains  the  forms  of  the  letters  and  the  lines  of  the  engraving,  is 
of  copper.  The  remainder  of  the  thickness  of  it,  as  has  already 
been  said,  is  of  type-metal,  which  is  cast  upon  the  back  of  the 
thin  copper  plate,  to  stiffen  and  support  it.  The  chief  interest  in 
respect  to  the  electrotyping  process  is  the  manner  in  which  this 
thin  copper  plate  is  made. 

A  visitor  going  }nto  a  room  where  the  electrotyping  process  is 
going  on,  sees  little  else  but  a  large  number  of  square  boxes  or 
tanks,  filled  with  some  chemical-looking  liquor,  and  connected  to- 
gether by  means  of  a  great  number  of  bent  and  crooked  wires, 
which  ran  in  irregular  curves  from  one  tank  to  another.  These 
wires  are  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  an  electric  current  to  the  liq- 
uor in  the  tanks.  The  current  is  supplied  from  what  is  called  a 
galvanic  battery,  which  also  stands  in  the  room. 


ELECTKOTYPING.  5J9 


Galvanic  battery.  Singular  effects  of  the  current  of  electricity. 

To  describe  the  construction  and  uses  of  a  galvanic  battery 
would  lead  me  too  far  away  from  the  subject  of  printing.  It  will 
be  sufficient  for  my  present  purpose  to  say,  that  a  current  of  elec- 
tricity from  such  a  battery,  directed  upon  the  liquor  in  the  tank, 
is  essential  to  the  success  of  the  electrotyping  process,  and,  ac- 
cordingly, the  battery  and  wires  are  arranged  for  the  purpose  of 
supplying  such  a  current.  The  general  principle  on  which  the 
process  is  conducted  is  this. 

It  has  been  discovered  within  a  few  years  that  if  a  liquid  con- 
tains any  metal  in  solution,  an  arrangement  may  be  made  of  elec- 
tric wires,  so  that,  under  the  influence  of  the  electric  current 
brought  by  the  wires,  the  particles  of  the  metal  in  the  solution  will 
be  slowly  deposited  upon  any  metallic  plate  which  may  be  im- 
mersed in  the  liquid,  although  no  such  effect  would  be  produced 
without  the  electric  current.  For  example,  if  a  liquid  containing 
copper  in  solution  were  to  be  placed  in  a  tank,  and  a  silver  dollar 
were  to  be  immersed  in  it,  no  effect  would  be  produced.*  If,  now, 
a  galvanic  battery  be  established  near  the  place,  to  supply  a  cur- 
rent of  electricity,  and  wires  are  placed  in  a  peculiar  way,  connect- 
ing the  battery  with  the  liquor  in  the  tank,  and  also  with  the  sil- 
ver dollar,  the  copper  will  begin  immediately  to  leave  the  liquor, 
and  to  deposit  itself  In  a  thin  film  all  over  the  surface  of  the  silver, 
and  will  soon  encase  it  entirely.      This  process  will  go  on  as  long 

*  Copper  itself,  in  its  metallic  state,  can  not  be  dissolved  in  water  ;  but  some  of  its 
compounds  with  other  substances  can  be.  For  example,  blue  vitriol,  which  is  a  com- 
pound of  sulphuric  acid  and  copper,  is  easily  soluble.  Of  course,  in  a  solution  of 
blue  vitriol  in  water,  we  should  have  the  particles  of  copper  diffused  throughout  the 
liquid,  though  in  a  wholly  invisible  form. 

/ 


100  ELECTEOTYPING. 


Formation  of  the  mould.  Depositing  the  copper  upon  it. 

as  the  current  of  electricity  continues,  and  the  supply  of  copper  in 
the  solution  holds  out.  Thus  a  copper  covering  of  any  required 
thickness  may  be  applied  to  the  silver. 

The  process  of  electrotyping  is  conducted  on  this  principle.  A 
thin  film  of  copper  is  deposited  in  the  manner  above  described  upon 
a  mould  which  contains  a  perfect  impression  of  the  whole  page 
which  is  to  be  cast,  both  type-matter  and  engravings.  The  mould 
is  formed  from  the  page  as  it  is  set  up  in  the  composing-room  by 
pressing  the  face  of  it  into  a  certain  plastic  substance  prepared  for 
the  purpose.  When  the  mould  is  thus  formed,  and  the  surface  of 
it  is  prepared  properly  for  receiving  the  metallic  deposit,  it  is  placed 
in  one  of  the  tanks,  and  then  connected  with  the  battery  by  the 
wires.  The  deposition  of  the  copper  all  over  the  surface  of  the 
mould  immediately  commences.  The  particles  find  their  way  into 
all  the  interstices  of  the  type,  and  into  the  very  finest  lines  of  the 
engraving,  so  as  to  reproduce  exactly  every  touch  and  lineament, 
however  delicate  and  fine,  of  the  engraved  work. 

After  the  process  has  been  continued  several  hours,  until  the 
workman  considers  that  the  coating  of  copper  is  sufficiently  thick 
to  sustain  itself  under  the  subsequent  operations,  he  takes  the 
mould  out,  and  the  copper  coating  is  detached  from  it.  The  plate 
is  exceedingly  slender  and  thin  when  first  detached,  but  all  the  let- 
ters of  the  types,  and  all  the  lines,  and  even  the  very  finest  shades 
of  the  engraving,  are  represented  upon  it  with  beautiful  distinct- 
ness and  precision.  The  impression  is,  of  course,  in  relief  on  one 
side,  and  in  intaglio  on  the  other.  This  thin  plate  is  then  placed 
on  a  sort  of  frame,  with  supports  to  keep  it  extended  in  a  true  and 


ELECTROTYPING. 


101 


JiNTERIOB    OF    THE    VAULTS. 


102  ELECTROTYPING. 


Finishing  the  plates.  The  subterranean  vaults.  New  editions. 

even  position,  and  a  backing  of  type-metal  is  cast  upon  what  a 
lady  would  call  the  wrong  side  of  it,  and  thus  a  solid,  substantial 
plate  is  formed,  thick  and  firm  enough  to  be  used  safely  in  print- 
ing, and  yet  not  one  fifth  part  as  heavy  as  the  original  page  of 
type-matter  from  which  it  was  formed. 

The  plates  are  all  minutely  examined  when  they  are  cast,  and 
are  properly  trimmed  and  finished.  They  are  made  as  nearly  as 
possible  of  a  uniform  thickness.  Of  course,  there  must  be  one 
plate  for  every  page  of  the  book  to  be  printed. 

The  accumulation  of  electrotype  plates  in  a  large  establishment 
that  has  been  long  in  operation  is  very  great.  In  the  Harper  Es- 
tablishment, the  stores  now  on  hand  are  enormous.  Those  of  the 
Magazine  alone  are  rapidly  approaching  ten  thousand. 

The  plates  are  stored  in  subterranean  vaults  built  under  the 
streets  that  surround  the  building.  The  entrance  to  these  vaults 
has  already  been  shown  in  the  sectional  view  of  the  Cliff  Street 
building,  on  page  42.  A  more  enlarged  view  is  shown  on  the  pre- 
ceding page.  The  vaults  extend  under  ground  for  two  hundred 
feet  in  length,  and  in  dimensions  are  eight  feet  wide  by  eight  feet 
high.  They  are  shelved  on  both  sides,  and  the  shelves  are  load- 
ed with  plates — stereotype  or  electrotype — representing  all  the 
works  published  in  the  establishment.  There  is  one  plate  for  ev- 
ery page  of  every  one  of  the  many  hundreds  of  volumes  which 
the  house  publishes,  making  from  fifty  to  seventy  tons  in  all. 

When  a  new  edition  of  any  book  is  required,  the  plates  are 
brought  out  from  these  vaults  and  put  upon  the  presses.  When 
the  work  is  finished,  thev  are  taken  back  again  to  the  vaults. 


ENGRAVINGS.  103 


Two  distinct  kinds  of  engravings  in  common  use. 


CHAPTER  XL 

ENGRAVINGS. 

To  those  who  have  not  had  an  opportunity  to  know  much  about 
the  processes  of  printing,  there  is  quite  a  mystery  in  respect  to  the 
manner  in  which  the  engravings  are  made. 

There  are  two  entirely  distinct  modes  of  making  and  printing- 
engravings  in  common  use.  These  two  modes  are  usually  distin- 
guished as  copper-plate  or  steel  engravings,  and  wood  engravings.* 

The  former  kind — that  is,  the  copper-plate  engravings,  were 
made  by  cutting  the  lines  of  the  picture  in  the  surface  of  the 
copper-plate,  and  then  rilling  these  lines  with  ink,  and  afterward 
taking  up  the  ink  upon  the  sheet  of  paper  by  a  strong  pressure. 

The  second  kind — that  is,  the  wood  engravings,  were  made  by 
drawing  the  figure  on  the  end  of  a  block  of  very  hard  and  close- 
grained  wood,  previously  made  smooth  for  the  purpose,  and  then 
cutting  away  the  wood  from  between  the  lines  of  the  drawing,  so 
as  to  leave  the  lines  themselves  in  relief,  thus  exactly  reversing 
the  process  in  copper-plate  engraving,  in  which  the  lines  them- 
selves were  cut  away.  The  figure  was  then  transferred  to  the  pa- 
per by  inking  the  faces  of  the  lines,  and  printing  from  them  in  a 
common  printing-press,  precisely  as  from  types. 

*  Besides  these,  there  is  a  third  class  of  illustrations  much  in  use,  called  lithographs. 
They  are,  however,  not  properly  engravings,  being  printed  from  simple  drawings  made 
upon  stone,  and,  therefore,  they  are  not  included  here. 

/ 


104  ENGRAVINGS. 


Copper  and  steel  engravings.  Advantages  of  this  method. 

The  names  copper-plate  engraving  and  wood  engraving  are, 
however,  no  longer  strictly  appropriate ;  for,  instead  of  plates  of 
copper,  plates  of  steel  are  now  generally  used  for  the  former  mode. 
The  steel  is  softened  in  the  first  instance,  so  as  to  facilitate  the 
cutting  of  the  lines  upon  it,  and  then  is  afterward  hardened  again, 
so  as  to  make  it  more  enduring  under  the  constant  rubbing  to 
which  it  is  subjected  in  the  process  of  printing.  It  is  wholly  on 
account  of  its  being  so  much  more  enduring  than  copper  that  steel 
is  now  more  generally  used  for  the  material  of  the  plate  on  which 
this  class  of  ensravino's  are  made. 

The  essential  distinction  between  the  two  modes  is  that,  by  the 
former,  the  lines  of  the  design  are  cut  in  intaglio,  as  it  is  called, 
while  by  the  latter  they  stand  in  relief. 

Copper  or  steel  engraving  has  this  advantage  over  wood,  name- 
ly, that  finer  work  may  be  executed  in  that  way.  This,  we  might 
easily  see,  must  necessarily  be  the  case,  since,  in  engraving  a  fine 
design,  it  must  be  much  more  easy  to  cut  the  lines  themselves  in 
the  material  of  the  surface  to  be  engraved,  than  to  cut  away  the 
material  on  each  side  of  the  line,  so  as  to  leave  the  line  itself  in  re- 
lief. It  is  subject  to  this  great  disadvantage,  however,  namely, 
that  it  requires  an  entirely  different  mode  of  printing  from  the  or- 
dinary letter-press  of  books — one,  moreover,  that  is  very  laborious 
and  slow ;  for,  in  the  first  place,  the  whole  surface  of  the  plate  is 
covered  with  ink  by  means  of  a  roller.  The  plate  is  then  care- 
fully wiped,  so  as  to  remove  all  the  ink  from  the  surface,  and  leave 
only  that  which  lies  in  the  lines  of  the  engraving.  The  ink,  lying 
as  it  does  beneath  the  surface  of  the  plate  in  the  engraved  lines, 


ENGRAVINGS. 


105 


Mode  of  printing  from  copper  and  steel  engravings. 


must  lie  brought  up,  as  it  were,  by  the  impression ;  and  this  re- 
quires a  very  great  force.  This  force  is  applied  by  passing  the 
plate,  with  the  sheet  on  which  the  impression  is  to  be  taken,  un- 
der a  roller.     By  this  means,  the  whole  force  of  the  pressure  is 

brought  upon  the  different 
portions  of  the  sheet  in  suc- 
cession, at  the  line  of  con- 
tact with  the  roller,  instead 
of  being  diffused  over  the 
whole  surface,  and  thus,  in 
a  great  degree,  weakened. 
The  adjoining  engraving 
represents  the  general  form 
of  one  of  these  printing- 
presses  as  used  fifty  years 
ago.  Great  improvements 
have  been  made  in  the  construction  of  these  presses  since  those 
days,  but  the  principle  is  the  same  at  the  present  day. 

In  printing  from  wood  engravings,  on  the  other  hand,  or  from 
electro-plates,  which  are  fac  similes  of  them  in  copper,  the  lines 
of  the  design  are  in  relief,  precisely  like  the  faces  of  the  types ; 
and  the  ink  may  be  taken  off  from  them  by  the  same  general  press- 
ure, exerted  simultaneously  over  the  whole  surface  of  the  plate,  as 
that  which  takes  the  impression  from  the  types.  This  species  of 
engraving  can  consequently  be  worked  in  the  same  page  with  let- 
ter-press, and  by  the  same  impression. 

This  difference  is  of  immense  importance  in  respect  to  the  prac- 

/ 


COPPER-PLATE    PRINTING. 


106  ENGRAVINGS. 


Slow  and  laborious  nature  of  the  process. 


tical  working  of  the  two  methods,  where  great  numbers  of  impres- 
sions are  required.  The  engravings  for  Harper's  Magazine,  for 
example,  by  being  cut  in  relief,  can  be  worked  in  the  power-press- 
es with  the  other  matter  of  the  number.  By  this  means,  they  can 
be  printed  with  great  rapidity,  although  still,  on  account  of  the 
vast  number  of  copies  that  are  required,  the  operation  occupies  a 
considerable  time.  If,  however,  the  engravings  were  all  in  one 
form,  the  whole  hundred  and  forty  thousand  copies  could  be  worked 
off  in  a  little  more  than  a  month  from  one  press.* 

If,  now,  on  the  other  hand,  we  suppose  the  engravings  to  be  ex- 
ecuted in  steel  or  copper,  the  result  would  be  astonishingly  differ- 
ent. I  find,  by  an  examination  of  the  last  number  of  the  Maga- 
zine that  has  been  issued  at  the  present  time,  that  it  contains  not 
less  than  sixteen  solid  pages  of  engravings.  If  we  suppose  that 
two  of  these  pages  were  engraved  on  one  plate,  it  would  require, 
at  the  usual  rate  of  printing  by  this  method — say  two  hundred  and 
fifty  impressions  per  day — not  much  less  than  two  years  to  work 
off  the  necessary  number  of  copies  from  one  plate,  and  that  would 
be  only  two  pages  out  of  the  sixteen  ;  so  that  it  would  take  twelve 
or  fifteen  years,  with  one  copper-plate  press,  to  print  all  the  en- 
gravings required  for  one  number,  instead  of  a  month  or  therea- 
bout, as  by  the  present  method.      Of  course,  by  multiplying  the 

*  In  point  of  fact,  the  engravings  are  scattered  through  many  forms,  and  it  takes 
several  presses,  therefore,  to  print  the  engravings  of  one  number  within  the  month  ; 
and  as  portions  of  several  numbers  are  being  printed  at  the  same  time,  there  is  an  av- 
erage of  ten  or  twelve  presses  constantly  employed  on  the  Magazine.  Sometimes 
twenty  are  at  work  upon  it  at  one  time 


ENGRAVINGS.  107 


Wood  superior  in  certain  respects.  Kind  of  wood  used. 

presses  used,  the  work  would  be  hastened,  but  it  would  require 
many  hundreds  of  presses  to  do  the  work  of  one  number  within 
the  month. 

Thus  we  see  that  steel  and  copper-plate  engravings  can  only  be 
used  as  illustrations  of  literary  works  in  cases  where  the  number 
of  copies  to  be  issued  is  comparatively  small.  Then,  moreover, 
they  can  not  be  printed  on  the  same  page  with  the  descriptions  re- 
ferring to  them,  except  at  great  additional  expense,  but  must  be  on 
separate  leaves. 

In  some  respects,  moreover,  wood  engravings,  when  executed  in 
the  highest  style  of  art,  are  superior  to  those  on  copper  or  steel. 
There  is  a  certain  indescribable  boldness  and  richness  of  effect  that 
characterizes  this  mode  when  it  is  carried  to  perfection  which  can 
not  be  produced  on  copper  or  steel. 

In  making  a  wood  engraving,  the  first  thing  to  be  done  is  for 
the  artist  to  draw  the  design  on  the  block  of  wood  to  be  engraved. 
The  wood  used  must  be  of  a  very  fine  and  compact  grain.  Box- 
wood is  the  kind  generally  employed.  In  fact,  no  other  wood  has 
yet  been  discovered  with  a  grain  close  enough  to  serve  for  fine  en- 
gravings. As  the  boxwood  is  a  small  tree,  blocks  of  sufficient  size 
for  large  engravings  can  be  procured  only  by  gluing  together  a  num- 
ber of  pieces.  It  is  prepared  by  being  sawed  off  in  blocks  from  the 
end  of  the  log,  and  then  squared  and  smoothed  in  a  very  exact  man- 
ner. These  operations  are  performed  by  means  of  very  ingenious 
machinery,  at  large  establishments  devoted  expressly  to  the  busi- 
ness. The  thickness  of  the  blocks  is  uniform,  being  the  same  as 
the  length  of  the  types,  in  order  that  the  blocks,  when  engraved, 


108  ENGRAVINGS. 


The  designer.  His  mode  of  proceeding  Dopier. 

may  be  set  up  with  the  types  in  a  page  of  matter.  The  size  of 
the  block,  of  course,  varies  with  the  size  of  the  design. 

In  making  the  design,  the  artist  sometimes  reads  the  work  of 
the  author,  and  selects  his  subject,  and  sometimes  the  author  him- 
self selects  the  subjects,  and  gives  the  designer  a  description  of 
them.  The  artist  then  makes  a  design  and  drawing  correspond- 
ing to  the  description.  To  illustrate  this  more  fully,  I  give  here 
an  actual  description  of  a  design,  selected  at  random  from  the  last 
set  which  I  sent  to  Mr.  Dopier,  the  artist  who  makes  many  of  the 
drawings  for  these  Story  Books,  and  insert  also  an  engraving  of 
the  design  which  he  made,  that  the  reader  may  compare  them. 
The  design  belongs  to  a  set  made  to  illustrate  a  future  number  of 
the  Story  Books  entitled  John  True.  Of  course  this  block  will 
be  used  twice.  It  is  employed  here  to  illustrate  the  nature  of  de- 
signing. In  the  story,  when  we  reach  it  in  the  series,  it  will  come 
in  again,  in  its  proper  place,  to  illustrate  the  narrative. 

The  following  is  the  description  sent : 

LUNCHEON. 
A  corner  in  a  handsome  breakfast-room  in  the  Fifth  Avenue. 
A  small  table  neatly  set  for  luncheon  near  a  large  bow  window. 
Rich  furniture  partly  or  wholly  shown.  Handsome  curtains  to 
the  window.  Two  pretty  children,  John  True,  and  his  sister,  five 
years  old,  are  at  the  table  eating  their  luncheon,  which  consists  of 
chicken-pie,  and  a  tumbler  of  milk  for  each.  Pitcher  on  the  table. 
The  children  are  dressed  very  plainly  and  simply. 

On  the  facing  page  you  will  see  the  design  which  the  artist  made. 


ENGRAVINGS. 


109 


Specimen  of  a  design  to  be  compared  with  the  description. 


THE    DESIGN. 


By  comparing  the  description  with  the  design,  the  reader  will 
see  how  much  in  all  cases  is  necessarily  left  to  the  inventive  ge- 
nius of  the  artist  in  respect  to  all  the  details  of  the  work.      Some- 


110  ENGRAVINGS. 


Common  mistake.  Designing  an  intellectual  art.  Preparation  of  the  wood. 

times  persons  imagine  that  being  able  to  draw  prettily  upon  paper 
or  Bristol-board,  from  engravings  or  from  drawings  made  by  other 
persons,  is  evidence  of  qualifications  to  make  original  designs  on 
wood  for  the  engraver,  but  a  very  few  trials  will  in  most  cases 
convince  them  how  great  is  the  mistake.  The  penciling  is  merely 
the  mechanical  part  of  the  work.  Designing,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  purely  an  intellectual  process,  and  it  requires  intellectual  quali- 
ties of  the  highest  order  to  perform  it  successfully.  There  must 
be  a  poetical  fancy,  great  powers  of  invention,  and  a  refined  and 
delicate  taste  combined.  The  putting  of  the  drawing  on  the  wood 
is  only  a  mechanical  mode  of  expressing  the  conceptions  of  the 
mind.  The  success  of  the  work  will  depend,  of  course,  altogether 
on  what  the  conceptions  are  that  are  expressed,  and  this  depends 
on  the  structure  of  the  mind,  and  not  on  the  skill  or  training  of  the 
hand. 

In  other  words,  a  designer  is  a  poet  whose  hand  has  been  train- 
ed to  express  his  mental  conceptions  by  drawing.  Where  the 
conceptions  of  the  mind  are  meagre,  weak,  and  prosaic,  no  skill 
of  the  hand  will  be  of  any  avail,  for  the  hand  can  not  change  the 
conceptions.      It  can  only  express  them  as  they  are. 

In  drawing  on  the  wood,  the  artist  first  whitens  the  surface  of 
the  block  by  applying  a  composition  to  it.  He  usually  sketches 
his  design  first  in  outline  on  paper,  and  then  transfers  the  tracing 
to  this  white  surface  by  pressure.  He  then  goes  on  to  finish  the 
drawing.  It  would  be  difficult  to  draw  on  a  thick  block,  if  it  were 
placed  by  itself  upon  a  table  or  desk,  for  want  of  a  support  to  the 


ENGKAVINGS.  Ill 


The  drawing-board.  Materials  and  implements.  Models. 

hand,  especially  at  those  parts  of  the  design  which  come  near  the 
edges.  To  remedy  this  inconvenience,  the  artist  uses  a  sort  of 
drawing-board  or  tablet  to  place  his  block  in  while  he  is  drawing 
upon  it.  This  tablet  consists  of  a  board  with  a  flat  border  on  two 
sides  of  it.  The  border  is  about  two  or  three  inches  wide,  and  is 
of  the  exact  thickness  of  the  block.  The  block  is  placed  upon 
this  board  in  the  angle  of  the  border,  and  thus  the  upper  side  of 
the  border  forms  a  continuous  surface  with  the  upper  side  of  the 
block,  and  serves  as  a  support  to  the  hand  in  drawing. 

Besides  this  tablet,  the  designer  requires  but  few  instruments  of 
implements  for  his  work.  He  must  have  a  variety  of  pencils,  of 
various  degrees  of  hardness  and  blackness,  and  a  pair  of  compass- 
es, and  scales  of  equal  parts,  and  tracing-paper,  brushes,  and  India 
ink,  and  a  few  other  similar  materials,  and  this  is  all.  He,  how- 
ever, requires  many  aids  in  the  way  of  models  and  patterns.  It 
is  true  that,  in  all  original  designs  that  he  makes,  he  must  depend 
upon  his  own  inventive  fancy  for  the  general  conception  of  the 
scene,  and  for  the  selection  and  disposition  of  the  objects  that  he 
introduces  ;  but  in  drawing  the  details,  he  must  have  either  these 
objects  themselves  before  him,  or  else  good  drawings  of  them  made 
by  others,  except  in  the  case  of  those  comparatively  few  forms 
which  he  has  drawn  so  often  that  he  already  knows  them  thor- 
oughly. This  makes  it  necessary  for  him  to  have  in  his  studio 
a  great  number  and  variety  of  models  of  forms,  and  also  books 
and  portfolios  of  engravings,  and  other  objects  and  works  of  art, 
to  aid  him,  and  these  generally  make  the  studio  a  very  attractive 
place. 

/ 


112 


ENGKAYINGS. 


View  of  Dopler's  studio. 


-      Hi 


THE    STUDIO. 


ENGRAVINGS.  113 


Mode  of  engraving  the  blocks.  Lines  of  the  shading.  The  shadow. 

When  the  artist  has  finished  a  set  of  designs,  the  blocks  con- 
taining the  drawings  are  sent  to  the  engraver  to  be  cut.  This 
work  of  cutting  consists,  as  has  been  already  explained,  in  cutting 
out  all  the  wood  between  the  lines  of  the  design,  so  as  to  leave 
the  lines  themselves  in  relief. 

This  any  one  not  well  acquainted  with  the  subject  might  well 
suppose  to  be  impossible,  so  fine  are  the  lines,  and  so  close  togeth- 
er do  they  lie  in  a  good  drawing.  Just  look,  for  example,  at  the 
engraving  of  the  Studio,  and  observe  the  drawing  of  the  surface  of 
the  wall  above  and  around  the  picture  which  hangs  over  the  man- 
tle-piece. The  drawing  consists  of  a  series  of  fine  lines,  very  near 
together.  Now,  in  cutting  this  part  of  the  block,  the  workman, 
with  a  fine  and  sharp-pointed  tool,  cuts  a  series  of  grooves,  leav- 
ing the  part  of  the  wood  which  represents  the  lines  in  relief.  You 
will  easily  imagine  how  nice  and  minute  an  operation  this  must  be. 
And  yet  this  is  comparatively  a  very  simple  case,  and  very  easy  to 
be  engraved.  Look,  for  another  example,  at  the  shadows  of  the 
picture-frame  on  the  wall,  on  the  right-hand  side  of  it — that  is,  on 
the  side  opposite  the  light.  That  shadow  is  made  by  leaving  an 
extra  line  there  between  every  two  of  the  regular  wall-shading. 
It  will,  perhaps,  be  necessary  to  examine  the  work  with  a  magni- 
fying-glass  to  see  distinctly,  though  the  general  effect  produced — 
that  is,  the  appearance  of  a  shadow,  is  visible  at  once  to  every  eye. 

It  is  so  with  every  portion  of  the  engraving.  Examine  it  care- 
fully in  every  part,  and  wherever  you  see  a  light  part  on  the  pa- 
per, there  you  may  know  that  the  wood  has  been  cut  away ;  and 
wherever  you  see  a  line  or  a  black  surface,  there  the  wood  has 
10  H 


114  ENGRAVINGS. 


The  engraver's  implements.  The  magnifying-glass. 

been  left.  The  ink,  of  course,  only  takes  effect  where  the  wood 
has  been  left,  and  thus  the  lines  and  shadings  of  the  design  are 
printed. 

Where  the  lines  of  the  drawing  cross  each  other,  as  they  often 
do,  there  the  difficulty  of  engraving  it  is  greatly  increased,  as  the 
wood  must  in  those  cases  be  cut  away  in  the  interstices  of  the 
crossings,  which  is  an  extremely  nice  and  delicate  operation. 

The  engraver,  when  engaged  at  his  work,  sits  at  a  high  table 
placed  in  a  clear  light.  Attached  to  the  stand  on  which  he  sup- 
ports the  block  while  he  is  cutting  it,  there  is  a  magnifying-glass, 
placed  in  such  a  position  as  to  be  before  his  eye  when  he  is  en- 
gaged at  his  work.  It  is  only  quite  a  coarse  style  of  engraving 
which  can  be  executed  with  the  naked  eye. 

The  process  of  cutting  the  block  is  very  laborious  and  slow. 
To  engrave  the  one  used  for  the  frontispiece  of  this  number  must 
have  required  not  less  than  ten  or  twelve  days  of  incessant  labor. 

When  the  block  is  engraved  it  is  sent  to  the  compositor,  and  he 
sets  it  in  its  place  in  the  page  in  which  it  is  to  be  printed,  having 
previously  adjusted  the  thickness  of  it  exactly  to  the  length  of  the 
types,  so  that  the  upper  surface  of  it  may  come  on  a  level  with  the 
faces  of  the  types,  and  thus  the  whole  be  printed  together. 

When  the  pages  are  thus  made  ready,  the  engravings  being  all 
inserted  in  their  places,  and  the  letter-press  being  made  correct, 
they  are  wedged  up  in  chases,  one  or  more  in  each,  according  to 
the  size  of  them,  and  are  sent  to  the  electrotyping  department  to 
be  electrotyped,  in  the  manner  already  explained. 


THE    PEESS.  115 


Essential  parts  of  a  printing-press.  The  framework  of  the  press. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    PEESS. 

In  the  engraving  on  the  next  page  we  have  a  representation  of 
a  hand-press,  of  one  of  the  most  approved  modern  forms.  The 
great  power-presses  that  are  driven  by  steam,  though  much  larger 
and  much  more  complicated  in  their  details,  are  substantially  the 
same  in  all  their  essential  parts,  and  the  principle  of  the  machine 
can  be  more  easily  understood  in  the  simpler  model. 

The  essential  parts  of  all  printing-presses  are  these : 


1.  The  Bed. 

2.  The  Tympan. 

3.  The  Frisket. 


4.  The  Carriage. 

5.  The  Platen. 

6.  The  Power. 


These  will  be  explained  in  their  order. 

You  will  perceive,  however,  in  the  first  instance,  that  the  gener- 
al framework  of  the  press  consists  of  two  upright  pillars  support- 
ed on  a  stand,  with  a  sort  of  table  extending  horizontally  from  the 
pillars  toward  the  right.  The  pillars  are  connected  together  by 
two  very  solid  and  heavy  cross-pieces,  one  above  and  one  below. 
The  upper  one  of  these  cross-pieces  is  called  the  head  of  the  press. 
The  lower  one  forms  a  support  for  the  bed  when  the  pressure  is 
applied.  The  pressure  being  thus  exerted  between  these  two 
cross-pieces,  of  course  the  whole  strain  comes  upon  them,  and 
upon  the  upright  pillars  to  which  they  are  secured.  It  is  neces- 
sary, therefore,  to  have  this  part  of  the  framework  very  strong. 


116 


THE    PRESS. 


Engraving  of  the  hand-press. 


Great  strain  upon  the  upright  pillars. 


THE    HAND-PRESS. 


In  former  times,  these  upright  pillars  were  made  of  very  thick 
and  solid  beams  of  wood,  with  heavy  blocks  of  wood,  for  cross- 
pieces,  bolted  and  screwed  firmly  to  them  above  and  below.  Aft- 
erward they  were  made  of  cast  iron,  the  upright  parts  and  the 
cross-pieces  being  all  cast  in  one  solid  mass.     At  the  present  time 


THE    PKESS.  117 


The  action  of  the  press  described.  Functions  of  the  various  parts. 

wrought  iron  pillars  are  used,  and  thus  the  same  strength  is  at- 
tained with  a  much  greater  degree  of  lightness. 

The  action  of  the  press  is  simply  as  follows :  B  is  the  bed.  The 
form  to  be  printed  is  placed  upon  it.  In  the  engraving,  the  press 
is  represented  as  prepared  for  printing  one  of  the  large  placards  for 
Harper's  Magazine.  We  see  the  words  in  the  form  as  it  lies  in 
its  place  upon  the  bed.  The  words  are,  of  course,  reversed,  but 
they  will  come  right  when  printed,  or  when  seen  in  a  looking-glass. 
T  is  the  tympan.  The  sheet  to  be  printed  is  placed  upon  it.  F 
is  the  frisket.  The  use  of  the  frisket  is  to  hold  the  sheet  close 
upon  the  tympan  when  the  tympan  is  turned  over  upon  the  form. 
The  frisket  is  a  light  iron  frame,  covered  with  paper,  and  moving 
on  hinges,  with,  openings  in  the  paper  to  correspond  with  the  pages 
of  the  form  that  is  to  be  printed.  When  the  sheet  is  placed  upon 
the  tympan,  the  frisket  is  brought  down  over  it,  to  hold  the  paper, 
and  then  the  tympan  is  brought  down  to  the  form.  Of  course, 
the  paper  comes  over  the  face  of  the  types,  which  have  been  pre- 
viously inked  by  the  rollers  seen  behind,  and  the  tympan  comes 
upon  the  back  of  it.  The  tympan  consists  of  a  piece  of  India-rub- 
ber cloth  stretched  upon  a  frame,  with  one  thickness  of  flannel  or 
something  similar  placed  behind  it,  and  kept  in  its  place  by  a 
lining  of  muslin.  Its  object  is  to  equalize,  as  it  were,  the  press- 
ure upon  the  sheet  of  paper  on  the  form. 

And  now  the  bed  of  the  press,  B,  carrying  the  form,  with  the 
tympan  and  frisket  folded  over  it,  is  run  backward  along  the  rails, 
B,  B,  on  a  sort  of  concealed  carriage,  worked  by  a  crank,  seen  in 
the  side  of  the  rail,  until  it  is  under  the  platen,  P.      This  platen 


118 


THE    PRESS. 


Comparison  of  the  modern  press  with  those  of  old  times. 


is  simply  a  thick  iron  plate,  strongly  braced,  and  arranged  so  as 
to  be  movable  through  a  short  space  tip  and  down.  L  is  a  lever 
connected  with  a  joint  which  furnishes  the  power  for  pressing  the 
platen  down.  It  is  worked  by  means  of  the  long  handle  extend- 
ing to  the  right.  The  pressman  runs  the  form  in  under  the  plat- 
en with  his  left  hand  by  means  of  the  crank,  and  then,  with  his 
right  hand,  pulls  the  handle,  and  forces  the  platen  down  with  very 
great  power  upon  the  tympan,  thus  pressing  the  sheet  hard  upon 
the  face  of  the  types,  and  causing  it  to  take  the  impression.  Then 
pushing  back  the  handle,  the  two  spiral  springs  seen  above  on  each 
side  lift  the  platen  up,  and  the  form  is  released.      The  pressman 

then  runs  the  form  out,  as 
he  had  run  it  in,  by  turn- 
ing the  little  side  crank, 
and,  unfolding  the  frisket 
and  tympan,  he  takes  out 
the  sheet  and  puts  in  an- 
other. While  he  is  doing 
this,  the  roller,  seen  be- 
hind, by  means  of  some 
curious  machinery  con- 
nected with  it,  comes  for- 
ward, and  inks  the  form 
so  as  to  be  ready  for  a 
new  impression. 

The  adjoining  engrav- 
ing is  a  correct  represent- 


FEANKLIN'S    PUi:SS 


THE    PRESS.  119 


Great  progress  madejn  the  mechanical  arts  during  the  last  half  century. 

ation  of  one  of  the  presses  used  by  Franklin  before  the  Revolu- 
tion. It  is  of  comparatively  very  rude  construction,  but  the  read- 
er will  observe  that  the  same  essential  parts  are  to  be  seen  in  it 
that  have  been  described.  The  frisket  is  folded  down,  and  so  does 
not  appear ;  but  the  tympan  is  there,  and  the  bed,  and  the  car- 
riage, and  the  platen,  and  the  power,  which  in  this  case  is  a  screw. 
The  great  difference  in  the  mechanism  of  the  two  machines  il- 
lustrates in  some  measure  the  immense  progress  that  has  been 
made  in  the  course  of  the  last  half  century  in  the  mechanical  arts  ; 
and  yet,  to  get  a  full  and  complete  idea  of  this  progress,  we  must 
compare  Franklin's  press,  not  with  the  hand-press  already  de- 
scribed, but  with  one  of  the  great  power-presses,  by  means  of 
which  almost  all  the  prodigious  printing  operations  of  the  present 
day  are  performed.  A  representation  of  one  of  these  presses,  as 
it  stands  in  the  great  press-room  of  the  Harper  Establishment,  is 
seen  in  the  following  page.  It  is  too  complicated  to  be  fully  de- 
scribed in  detail,  but  some  of  the  more  prominent  features  of  it  may 
be  pointed  out.  The  girl  who  stands  at  it  is  called  the  feeder. 
She  has  a  pile  of  damped  paper  on  a  stand  over  the  press.  The 
pile  is  inclined  a  little  toward  her,  so  as  to  make  it  easier  for  her 
to  draw  off  the  successive  sheets.  Under  this  pile  of  paper  is  the 
platen.  We  recognize  it  by  the  iron  braces  partially  seen  beneath 
the  stand  on  which  the  paper  is  placed.  The  form  is  beneath  the 
platen,  and  is  not  in  view.  It  rests  there  on  the  bed  of  the  press, 
which  is  likewise  hidden.  To  the  right,  we  see  a  part  of  the  sys- 
tem of  rollers  by  which  the  form  is  inked.  The  feeder  has  just 
placed  a  sheet  to  be  printed  on  the  inclined  table  before  her.     This 


120 


THE    PRESS. 


THE    PRESS.  121 


Description  of  one  of  the  power-presses. 


table  is  called  the  apron.  In  a  moment  a  set  of  iron  fingers  will 
come  up  from  below,  and,  taking  hold  of  the  lower  edge  of  the  pa- 
per, will  draw  it  in  under  the  platen,  between  the  platen  and  the 
form.  The  revolution  of  the  machinery  will  then  bring  an  im- 
mense power  into  operation,  by  means  of  cams  and  levers  seen  be- 
low, by  which  the  bed  of  the  press,  with  the  form  and  sheet  upon 
it,  are  pressed  up  for  a  moment  with  great  force  against  the  plat- 
en. This  makes  the  impression.  The  form  then  descends  again, 
and  the  sheet,  by  a  very  ingenious  and  peculiar  mechanism,  pass- 
es out  under  the  apron  on  which  the  feeder  originally  placed  it,  to- 
ward the  left,  where  the  edge  of  it  jumps  up  very  mysteriously 
upon  a  series  of  endless  tapes,  which  may  be  seen  in  the  engraving 
through  the  fly-wheel.*  From  these  it  is  taken  up  by  a  light 
frame,  formed  of  long  and  slender  rods  of  wood,  and  is  carried  over 
and  laid  down  upon  the  pile  at  the  extreme  left  of  the  engraving. 
Thus  the  work  goes  regularly  on,  with  no  attendance  whatever 
except  the  placing  of  each  successive  sheet  within  the  reach  of  the 
iron  fingers  which  are  to  draw  it  into  the  machine. 

Visitors  who  watch  the  motions  of  the  press  while  it  is  perform- 
ing its  work  are  always  particularly  pleased  with  the  life-like  ac- 
tions of  the  iron  fingers  that  come  up  and  take  hold  of  the  lower 
edge  of  the  sheet  of  paper  on  the  apron,  and,  after  lifting  it  gently 
over  the  ledge  formed  on  the  lower  side  of  the  apron  to  prevent  its 

*  The  term  endless,  when  used  in  such  a  connection  as  this,  in  the  description  of 
machinery,  denotes  that  the  band,  or  chain,  or  whatever  else  it  may  be  to  which  it  is 
applied,  passes  over  two  pulleys  at  a  distance  from  each  other,  and  is  joined  at  the 
ends,  so  as  to  revolve  continuously  between  and  over  the  pulleys. 


122  THE    PEESS. 


Ingenious  mechanical  contrivances.  Appearance  of  the  press-room. 

sliding  down,  draw  it  in  under  the  platen  to  be  printed ;  and 
when  the  sheet  comes  out  again,  under  the  apron,  after  receiving 
the  impression,  they  wonder  by  what  means  the  edge  of  it  is  made 
to  leap  up  so  dexterously  upon  the  tape-lines  that  are  to  carry  it 
away.  They  often  watch  this  motion  very  closely  a  long  while 
without  being  able  to  discover  how  the  effect  is  produced.  The 
explanation  is,  that  the  edge  of  the  sheet  is  blotoi  up  by  a  puff  of 
wind  from  below.  There  is  a  pair  of  bellows  concealed  in  the 
frame-work  of  the  press,  and  at  precisely  the  right  instant  the  rev- 
olution of  the  machinery  gives  a  puff  from  it  up  through  a  row  of 
holes  exactly  under  the  edge  of  the  sheet  of  paper.  The  impulse 
of  this  puff  throws  the  edge  of  the  sheet  up  to  the  tapes,  and  the 
long  fingers  of  the  frame  which  is  to  lift  it  over  and  place  it  upon 
the  pile  having  previously  laid  themselves  between  the  tapes,  the 
sheet  is  received  upon  them,  and  immediately  afterward  is  carried 
over.  In  the  engraving,  this  frame,  which  is  called  a  fly,  has  just 
carried  over  one  printed  sheet,  and  is  coming  back  for  another. 

There  are  nearly  thirty  of  these  presses  in  the  great  press-room, 
and  there  is  something  imposing  and  almost  sublime  in  the  calm 
and  steady  dignity  with  which  the  ponderous  engines  continue 
their  ceaseless  toil.  There  is,  indeed,  a  real  dignity  and  a  real 
grace  in  the  movements  which  they  perform.  The  observer  looks 
down  the  room  from  the  elevated  desk  of  the  foreman,  and  surveys 
the  scene  with  great  interest  and  pleasure,  wondering  at  the  com- 
plicated massiveness  of  the  constructions,  and  at  the  multitude  of 
wheels,  and  pulleys,  and  bands  that  mingle  and  combine  their  mo- 
tions with  the  revolutions  of  the  machinerv.      His  attention  is 


DRYING    AND    PRESSING    THE    SHEETS.  123 

Storage  of  the  electrotype  plates.  Drying  and  pressing. 

particularly  attracted  to  the  action  of  the  flies,  as  they  rise  in  suc- 
cession, one  after  another,  in  all  parts  of  the  room,  bringing  up 
the  beautifully  printed  sheets  from  the  press,  and,  carrying  them 
over,  lay  them  gently  down  upon  the  gradually  accumulating  pile. 
When  all  the  forms  of  the  book  which  is  in  hand  have  been 
"worked  off,"  as  the  phrase  is,  the  electrotype  plates  of  the  sev- 
eral pages,  having  been  previously  separated  from  the  blocks,  are 
taken  back  to  the  subterranean  vaults,  and  are  there  safely  stored 
away  in  the  compartments  assigned  to  them.  The  place  of  the 
entrance  to  these  vaults  was  shown,  and  some  account  of  their  ex- 
tent was  given,  in  a  previous  chapter.  The  number  of  plates  ac- 
cumulated there,  enormous  as  it  is,  is  increasing  at  the  rate  of, 
upon  an  average,  two  hundred  a  day. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DRYING    AND    PRESSING    THE    SHEETS. 

Sheets  of  paper  to  be  printed  require,  as  has  already  been  re- 
marked, to  be  made  damp  before  being  put  upon  the  press.  When 
perfectly  dry,  they  do  not  take  the  ink  well.  Of  course,  after  they 
are  printed,  the  first  process  is  to  dry  them. 

Newspapers  are  not  dried,  but  are  distributed  to  the  subscribers 
just  as  they  come  from  the  press.  There  is  not  time  to  dry  them, 
for  they  must  ordinarily  be  issued  immediately.  But  sheets  which 
are  to  be  folded  and  formed  into  books  require  to  be  dried  and 
then  to  be  pressed.  This  pressing  is  necessary,  not  only  for  the 
purpose  of  flattening  out  the  warpings  and  twistings  in  the  sheets, 


124  DRYING   AND    PRESSING    THE    SHEETS. 

The  drying-room.  Mode  of  placing  the  sheets  on  the  drying-frames. 

produced  by  their  having  been  wet  and  dried,  but  also  to  remove 
the  little  burr  or  protrusion  in  the  paper  made  by  the  pressure  of 
the  types. 

The  process  of  drying  the  sheets  has  already  been  referred  to, 
and  the  place  where  it  is  performed  is  shown  in  the  section  on  page 
42.  It  is  in  the  second  story,  and  in  the  first  division  of  that 
story  toward  the  left.  The  opposite  engraving  gives  an  enlarged 
view  of  the  drying  apparatus.  The  men  on  the  left  are  bringing 
the  sheets  to  be  dried.  They  take  them  down  from  a  stack  of 
sheets  piled  up  in  the  racks  so  high  that  it  requires  a  ladder  to 
reach  them.  The  sheets  are  moved  from  place  to  place  about  the 
floor  by  means  of  trucks.  One  of  these  trucks  stands  by  itself  in 
the  foreground.  In  the  centre  of  the  picture,  three  men  are  em- 
ployed in  placing  the  sheets  upon  one  of  the  frames,  which  has 
been  drawn  out  for  the  purpose  from  the  drying-room.  The  work- 
men put  the  sheets  on  the  lowermost  bars  of  the  frame  with  their 
hands.  The  higher  bars  are  reached  by  means  of  a  pole,  with  a 
cross-bar  at  the  top  of  it.  The  form  of  this  instrument,  and  the 
manner  in  which  the  workmen  load  it  with  the  sheets — several  at 
a  time — is  seen  by  the  action  of  the  man  who  is  standing  at  the 
truck,  near  the  frame.  When  the  sheets  are  put  upon  the  pole  in 
this  way,  they  are  lifted  up  and  placed  across  the  upper  bars  of  the 
frame,  as  we  see  in  the  action  of  the  central  figure  of  the  group. 

When  all  the  bars  of  the  frames  are  filled  with  sheets,  the  frame 
itself  is  pushed  into  the  drying  compartment.  The  end  of  each 
frame  consists  of  a  board  of  the  same  width  as  the  distance  at 
which  the  frames  stand  apart  when  they  are  in  their  places,  and 


DRYING    AND    PRESSING   THE    SHEETS.  125 


Construction  and  arrangement  of  the  drying-room 


THE    DRYING-ROOM. 


thus  these  boards,  when  the  frames  are  all  in,  form  one  continuous 
partition,  which  shuts  off  the  compartment  closely  from  the  rest 
of  the  room,  and  keeps  the  hot  air  within  it  confined  till  the  sheets 
are  dried.  Of  course,  there  is  a  proper  arrangement  for  ventilation, 
in  order  that  the  vapors  produced  by  the  process  of  drying  may  be 
carried  away. 


s 


126 


DRYING    AND    PRESSING    THE    SHEETS. 


View  of  the  hydraulic  presses. 


HYDRAULIC    PRESSES 


DRYING    AND    PRESSING   THE    SHEETS.  127 

Account  of  the  hydraulic  pump  and  of  the  hydraulic  presses. 

There  are  over  forty  of  these  frames  in  the  compartment.  They 
will  contain  twelve  hundred  sheets  each,  making  about  fifty  thou- 
sand sheets  in  all  that  may  be  dried  at  one  time.  The  process  of 
drying  requires  about  a  day. 

The  frames  can  be  moved  in  and  out  very  easily,  for  they  are 
all  suspended  by  pulleys  or  trucks,  that  run  upon  little  railways 
placed  near  the  ceiling  above. 

When  the  sheets  are  dried  they  are  to  be  pressed.  The  press- 
ure is  applied  by  means  of  a  hydraulic  pump.  A  view  of  this 
engine  is  seen  on  the  right,  in  the  foregrounds  Though  it  does 
not  appear  large  in  the  engraving,  the  force  of  pressure  which  it 
exerts  is  not  less  than  five  hundred  tons.  It  consists  simply  of  a 
double-acting  force-pump,  with  cylinders  of  small  bore,  but  with  a 
great  force  from  the  engine  to  act  upon  the  pistons.  This  forces 
the  water  through  a  very  strong  pipe  beneath  the  floor  to  other 
cylinders,  fitted  also  with  pistons,  under  the  presses.  These  oth- 
er cylinders  are  large.  Of  course,  whatever  force  is  applied  to  the 
small  pistons  in  the  pumps,  an  equal  amount  of  pressure  is  pro- 
duced on  every  square  inch  of  the  large  pistons  in  the  cylinders 
under  the  presses,  and  thus  a  prodigious  pressure  on  the  sheets  of 
paper  is  the  result. 

We  see  the  upper  part  of  one  of  these  large  cylinders  under  the 
first  of  the  presses  on  the  left.  Above  it  is  a  square  iron  plate, 
which  forms  a  base  on  which  the  pile  of  sheets  of  paper  to  be 
pressed  rests.  This  plate,  like  those  of  similar  function  in  the 
printing-press,  is  called  the  platen.  It  is  very  thick,  and  is  stif- 
fened beneath  by  iron  braces,  which  are  partially  seen  in  the  en- 


128  DKY1NG   AND    PEESSING    THE    SHEETS. 

Mechanical  contrivances.  Shifting  the  sheets. 

graving.  The  little  circular  handle  which  is  seen  rising  up  out  of 
the  floor,  opposite  the  end  of  the  press,  is  connected  with  a  valve, 
by  which  the  water  in  the  great  cylinders  may  be  let  off,  and  the 
pressure  relieved. 

The  presses  themselves  stand  in  a  row  at  the  end  of  the  room. 
They  occupy  the  right  hand  of  the  second  story  of  the  building, 
as  shown  in  a  sectional  view  of  the  different  stories  on  page  42. 
Each  press  may  be  connected  with  the  pump,  or  disconnected  from 
it  at  pleasure,  so  that  one  may  be  giving  up  or  receiving  a  supply 
of  sheets  while  the  others  are  full  and  in  action. 

The  manner  of  placing  the  sheets  in  the  press  is  shown  in  the 
engraving,  where  a  man  is  seen  at  the  third  press  in  the  row,  stand- 
ing on  a  step-ladder,  and  making  up  the  pile.  The  arrangement 
for  taking  this  pile  out  when  it  has  been  sufficiently  pressed  is  ex- 
ceedingly ingenious  and  convenient.  In  front  of  the  row  of  presses 
is  a  little  railway,  as  seen  in  the  engraving.  This  railway  is  trav- 
ersed by  two  small  cars,  one  of  which  is  seen  distinctly  in  the 
foreground.  The  other  is  in  the  distance,  and  is  partly  concealed. 
These  cars  serve  the  purpose  of  bridges  to  convey  the  piles  of 
pressed  paper  across  the  railway,  or  as  cars  to  move  along  it,  as 
may  be  required.  For  this  purpose,  two  short  rails  are  laid  across 
each  of  them.  We  see  these  cross-rails  very  distinctly  in  the 
bridge  which  stands  in  the  foreground.  By  means  of  these  cross- 
rails,  the  whole  pile  of  paper  may  be  run  out  upon  the  bridge ;  for 
the  pile  itself,  while  in  the  press,  rests  upon  trucks  and  rails  above 
the  platen,  which  are,  however,  concealed  from  view.  The  ma- 
chinery is  so  arranged  that  when  the  bridge  is  placed  opposite  one 


DRYING    AND    PRESSING    THE    SHEETS.  129 

The  railways.  The  flying  bridges.  Pasteboard  sheets. 

of  the  presses,  the  rails  on  the  bridge  correspond  exactly  with  the 
rails  on  the  platen  in  the  press,  which  the  pile  of  paper  rests  upon, 
and  also  with  the  rails  of  a  square  stand  placed  opposite,  just  out- 
side the  long  rails.  We  see  one  of  these  stands,  with  a  low  pile 
of  paper  upon  it,  where  the  boy  is  at  work  taking  the  paper  away. 

In  a  word,  by  trundling  the  bridge  along  the  railway  in  the 
floor,  it  may  be  placed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  form  a  railway  above, 
running  across  from  the  presses  to  the  stand  outside,  by  means 
of  which  the  whole  pile  of  pressed  sheets  may  be  rolled  out  at  once 
to  a  situation  where  the  boys  can  come  conveniently  to  take  them 
away,  while,  in  the  mean  time,  the  press  itself  is  at  liberty  to  be 
rilled  up  at  once  again. 

These  facilities  for  moving  the  masses  of  paper  are  the  more 
necessary,  on  account  of  the  great  quantity  that  the  presses  receive 
at  a  time.  The  stack  is  nearly  six  feet  high,  and  weighs  about 
a  ton. 

Each  sheet,  when  it  is  put  into  the  press,  is  placed  between  two 
sheets  of  thin,  but  very  smooth  and  hard  pasteboard.  It  is  very 
plain  that  the  sheets  would  not  be  pressed  smooth  by  coming  in 
juxtaposition  with  each  other.  The  processes  of  putting  the  sheets 
in  between  these  pasteboards,  and  taking  them  out  again  after 
they  are  pressed,  is  quite  an  interesting  one,  on  account  of  the  very 
systematic  and  rapid  manner  in  which  it  is  performed.  Opposite 
the  presses,  and  just  beyond  the  right-hand  margin  of  the  last  en- 
graving, there  stands  a  range  of  very  wide  tables  where  this  work 
is  done.  It  requires  two  men  at  each  table  to  do  it.  One  takes 
out  from  between  two  sheets  of  pasteboard  the  sheet  of  paper  that 
10  I        S 


130  FORWARDING. 


Changing  the  sheets.  Gathering.  The  signatures. 

lias  been  pressed,  and  the  other,  at  the  same  instant  almost,  puts 
another  in,  shifting  the  several  sheets,  both  of  paper  and  pasteboard, 
from  pile  to  pile,  in  the  course  of  the  manipulation,  with  a  dexteri- 
ty and  rapidity  that  is  surprising.  As  fast  as  a  sufficient  number 
of  the  rearranged  sheets  are  ready,  a  boy  takes  them  away,  and 
places  them  in  the  press,  while  another  boy  continually  brings  a 
fresh  supply  of  those  that  have  been  pressed  to  take  their  places. 
The  pressing  which  the  sheets  receive  in  this  operation  makes 
an  astonishing  difference  in  the  smootlmess  and  beauty  of  the  page 
when  the  book  comes  to  be  bound. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

FORWARDING. 

When  the  sheets  are  folded,  they  are  qathered,  as  it  is  termed ; 
that  is,  a  pile  of  each  sort  being  laid  out  along  a  table,  a  girl 
takes  from  each  pile  one,  and  puts  them  together  in  the  proper  or- 
der, so  as  to  form  the  book  or  pamphlet. 

These  separate  sheets  are  all  marked  at  the  foot  of  the  outer 
page  of  each  of  them  witli  what  is  called  the  signature,  that  is, 
with  a  letter  or  figure  which  denotes  what  sheet  it  is  of  the  series. 
The  girl  glances  her  eye  at  these  signatures  when  gathering  the 
sheets,  and  thus  makes  sure  that  there  is  no  mistake,  but  that  she 
is  taking  them  in  their  proper  order.  You  will  see  these  signatures 
in  this  book  by  looking  at  the  foot  of  the  pages  following  every  six- 
teenth page — that  is,  at  the  foot  of  pages  17,  33,  49,  &c.  You 
will  observe  that  the  letters  succeed  each  other  in  regular  order. 


FORWARDING 


131 


The  process  of  stabbing. 


Sawing  the  backs. 


If  the  work  is  a  pamphlet,  as,  for  example,  a  number  of  the 

Magazine  or  of  the  Story  Books, 
it  is  stitched.  If  it  is  a  bound 
book,  it  is  to  be  seived. 

To  prepare  the  pamphlet  for 
stitching,  three  holes  are  made 
through  the  sheets  by  means  of 
a  machine  called  a  stabbing  ma- 
chine. The  pamphlet  to  be  stab- 
bed is  laid  by  the  workman  upon 
a  flat  board,  and  then,  by  means 
of  a  pedal,  or  lever,  worked  by 
the  foot,  three  steel  points  are 
brought  down  through  the  paper, 
so  as  to  make  the  three  holes  re- 
quired for  the  twine  by  which 
the  pamphlet  is  to  be  stitched. 
You  will  see  these  holes,  and  the 
twine  passing  through  them,  by  examining  any  pamphlet. 

Books  that  are  to  be  bound  are  seived,  as  it  is  called ;  this  is 
quite  a  different  process  from  stitching.  To  prepare  the  books  for 
being  sewed,  the  first  step  is  to  saw  small  grooves  through  the 
backs  of  them,  deep  enough  to  receive  the  bands  of  twine  to  which 
each  sheet  is  secured.  The  sawing  of  these  grooves  is  performed 
in  what  is  called  a  sawing  machine.  This  machine  consists  of  a 
table,  with  two  iron  rails  upon  it  running  from  end  to  end.  On 
these  rails  is  a  sort  of  box,  or  rather  frame,  with  sides  and  back, 


132 


FORWARDING. 


View  of  the  machine  for  sawing  the  backs. 


THE    SAWING    MACHINE. 


but  no  front.      This  frame  traverses  the  table  to  and  fro  on  the 


FORWARDING.  133 


Account  of  the  sawing  machine.  Tables  for  sewing  books. 

rails.  The  workman  takes  a  quantity  of  folded  sheets  from  a  sup- 
ply made  ready  for  him  on  the  tables  near,  and,  placing  them  in 
this  frame,  he  wedges  them  in  securely.  Beneath  the  table  are 
placed  several  circular  saws,  arranged  at  the  proper  distance  from 
each  other.  The  teeth  of  these  saws  project  a  little  above  the  ta- 
ble, through  an  opening  made  in  it,  in  such  a  manner  that,  when 
the  frame  is  run  along  over  them,  the  grooves  are  sawed  in  the 
backs  of  the  sheets. 

The  sheets  are  then  to  be  sewed.  This  operation  is  performed 
by  great  numbers  of  girls,  seated  at  long  tables,  extending  in  rows 
along  the  room,  as  shown  in  the  sectional  view  in  page  42.  The 
sewing  of  the  books  is  a  great  work.  The  ranges  of  tables  de- 
voted to  it  are  so  extensive  as  to  furnish  accommodations  for  one 
hundred  girls,  and  each  place  is  provided  with  a  seat  and  a  stool, 
that  may  both  be  raised  or  depressed,  to  suit  the  comfort  and  con- 
venience of  the  occupant.*  Every  visitor  who  sees  these  girls  at 
their  work  is  struck  with  the  extreme  rapidity  and  dexterity  of 
their  movements,  and  with  the  healthy,  and  happy,  and  highly  at- 
tractive appearance  which  they  themselves  and  the  scene  of  their 
labors  exhibit.  Indeed,  so  far  as  my  observation  goes,  one  of  the 
chief  subjects  of  remark  with  strangers,  after  coming  away  from  a 
visit  to  the  whole  establishment,  is  the  intelligent  and  manly  bear- 
ing of  the  men  who  are  employed  in  it,  and  the  attractive  appear- 
ance and  lady-like  manners  of  the  girls. 

*  The  number  of  girls  employed  in  the  gilding-room  is  12  ;  in  the  sewing-room, 
100;  in  the  gathering  and  folding-room,  150;  and  in  the  press-room,  30,  making 
nearly  300  in  all. 


134 


FORWARDING. 


View  of  the  cutting  machine  and  of  the  great  shears. 


MAKBLING.  135 


Machine  for  trimming  the  edges  of  books. 


On  the  opposite  page  is  an  engraving  of  one  of  the  different  kinds 
of  machines  by  which  the  edges  of  the  books,  when  sewed,  are  trim- 
med. A  pile  of  the  books  is  screwed  up  very  tight  in  a  massive 
frame,  as  seen  in  the  engraving,  and  then  a  long  and  straight 
blade  of  steel  is  made  to  traverse  to  and  fro  with  great  rapidity, 
the  frame  gradually  rising,  as  the  blade  cuts  its  way  through  the 
pile  of  books,  until  the  edges  of  the  whole  pile  are  trimmed  smooth. 
The  books  are  then  turned,  and  the  same  operation  is  repeated  on 
the  ends. 

The  great  shears  seen  in  operation  at  one  side  are  used  for  cut- 
ting up  sheets  of  pasteboard  to  form  covers  for  the  books. 

These  preliminary  processes,  which  all  belong  to  the  department 
of  binding  called  forwarding,  are  performed  chiefly  in  the  fifth 
story  of  the  Cliff  Street  building,  as  is  shown  more  plainly  in  the 
sectional  view. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MAEBLING. 

In  a  corner  of  the  forwarding  apartment  there  is  a  small  inclo- 
sure,  partially  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  room  by  low  parti- 
tions, that  is  appropriated  to  the  process  of  marbling.  This  is 
one  of  the  most  curious  processes  to  be  seen  in  the  whole  estab- 
lishment. There  are  two  forms  of  it — one  the  marbling  of  sheets 
of  paper,  and  the  other  that  of  the  edges  of  books.  The  process 
is  essentially  the  same  in  both  cases.  It  consists  of  sprinkling 
the  colors  first  upon  the  surface  of  a  liquid,  in  a  sort  of  tank,  and 


M 


MARBLING 


General  account  of  the  marbling  process. 


then  taking  them  off  upon  the  surface  to  be  marbled  by  bringing 
the  paper,  or  the  edges  of  the  book,  down  gently  upon  the  colors, 
and  thus,  as  it  were,  sponging  them  up  from  off  the  surface  of  the 
liquid  on  which  they  were  floating. 

One  would  suppose  that  such  an  operation  as  this  would  be  per- 
fectly impossible,  and  visitors  who  witness  it  for  the  first  time  re- 
gard it  with  astonishment  and  delight. 


THE    MAKBLINO-R00M. 


The  engraving  represents  a  workman  in  the  act  of  taking  up  a 
sheet  of  paper  which  he  had  just  before  laid  down  upon  the  sur- 
face of  the  liquid  in  the  tank.      On  the  right  is  a  bench  containing 


MARBL1NC5-.  13 1 


The  pots  of  colors.  Mode  of  sprinkling  them  upon  the  sizing. 

the  pots  of  colors.  They  are  mixed  with  water,  and  are  of  the 
proper  consistency  to  sprinkle  easily  from  a  brush.  They  contain, 
however,  some  composition  which  prevents  their  blending  with  each 
other  when  sprinkled,  one  after  another,  upon  the  surface  of  the 
liquid  in  the  tank.  Each  drop,  when  falling  upon  the  spot  made 
by  the  preceding  drop,  instead  of  mixing  with  it,  remains  perfectly 
distinct,  only  crowding  the  color  of  the  preceding  drop  away  a  lit- 
tle to  make  room  for  itself,  as  we  shall  presently  see. 

The  pots  contain  but  a  small  quantity  of  coloring  matter,  little 
more  than  enough  to  cover  the  bottom  of  them.  If  it  were  other- 
wise, too  much  would  be  taken  up  by  the  brushes.  The  brushes 
themselves  are  of  somewhat  peculiar  form,  the  bristles  extending 
laterally  more  than  is  usual.  When  the  surface  of  the  liquid  in 
the  tank  is  ready  to  receive  the  sprinkling,  the  workman  takes  one 
of  the  brushes,  and  rolls  it  between  his  hands,  by  the  handle,  be- 
fore he  takes  it  out  of  the  pot,  in  order  to  throw  off  the  superfluous 
coloring  from  it ;  and  then,  holding  it  over  the  tank,  he  proceeds 
to  sprinkle  the  surface  of  the  liquid  with  it,  throwing  off  minute 
drops  from  the  brush  by  a  peculiar  and  very  dexterous  motion. 
The  drops  fall  upon  the  surface  of  the  liquid  in  the  tank  like  drops 
of  rain  upon  a  pond,  only,  instead  of  sinking  and  disappearing, 
they  remain  on  the  surface,  spreading  into  pretty  large  and  exceed- 
ingly well  defined  and  beautiful  circular  spots  of  red,  blue,  green, 
or  violet,  as  the  case  may  be.  The  drops  spread,  some  of  them  to 
the  size  of  a  quarter  of  a  dollar,  and  are  almost  mathematically 
perfect  in  their  form. 

The  workman  then  takes  another  brush  from  another  pot,  and 


138  MARBLING. 


The  colors  do  not  mingle.  Mode  of  sprinkling  them. 


SPRINKLING    THE    COLORS. 


sprinkles  the  surface  again  with  another  color.  If  the  first  color 
was  red,  the  second  may  perhaps  be  blue.  In  this  case,  the  blue 
drops,  instead  of  mingling  with  the  red,  remain  perfectly  distinct 
from  them,  crowding  them,  moreover,  more  or  less  out  of  their 
places,  and  modifying  the  forms  of  them.  For  example,  if  a  blue 
drop  were  to  fall  directly  upon  the  centre  of  a  red  spot  that  was 
produced  by  the  previous  sprinkling,  it  would  crowd  out  the  red 
color  to  a  wider  circumference,  while  it  would  itself  occupy  the 


MARBLING.  139 


Curious  effects  produced  by  the  sprinkling 


centre,  and  we  should  have,  in  that  case,  a  central  blue  spot  sur- 
rounded by  a  concentric  ring  of  red.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
blue  drop  were  to  fall  upon  the  margin  of  the  red  drop,  then  it 
would  push  one  half  of  the  red  spot  back  upon  itself,  straightening 
the  side  that  it  came  in  contact  with,  and  expanding  the  opposite 
side.  The  result  would  be,  in  this  case,  a  large  circular  spot,  one 
half  of  which  would  be  blue  and  the  other  half  red,  the  boundary 
between  the  two  being  a  straight  line  passing  from  one  side  of  the 
spot,  through  the  centre,  to  the  other  side.  Of  course,  it  is  not 
often  that  either  of  these  two  cases  precisely  occurs.  The  drops 
of  blue  fall  indiscriminately  all  over  the  surface  of  the  liquid  in  the 
tank,  and  come  upon  the  drops  of  red  in  every  variety  of  position, 
producing,  consequently,  an  infinite  variety  of  forms  by  the  com- 
binations of  the  two  colors. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  workman  continues  the  process  of  sprink- 
ling. He  takes  next  some  other  color :  it  may  be  yellow,  or  green, 
or  dark  purple.  Whatever  it  may  be,  the  third  set  of  drops  fall 
as  the  others  did,  each  making  for  itself  a  place  by  crowding  the 
others  out  of  the  way,  and  producing  new  and  still  more  compli- 
cated varieties  of  form.  This  sprinkling  is  followed  by  another 
and  another,  until  at  length  there  may  be  five,  six,  or  eight  differ- 
ent colors  combined,  and  then,  on  closely  examining  the  surface, 
you  will  perceive  that  the  original  red  is  still  entirely  distinct  from 
the  colors  that  have  been  subsequently  added,  not  having  minglea 
with  them  at  all,  even  at  the  lines  of  contact  with  them,  though 
the  form  of  the  spaces  which  it  occupies  is  entirely  changed.  The 
original  circles  have  entirely  disappeared,  and  the  red  is  now  seen 


140  MARBLING. 


Various  modifications  of  the  coloring.  Different  patterns. 

occupying  only  the  curved  and  irregular  interstices  which  lie  be- 
tween the  drops  formed  by  subsequent  sprinklings.  In  a  word, 
the  whole  surface  of  the  liquid  in  the  tank  has  become  covered 
with  brilliant  and  variegated  colors,  each  different,  one  being  sep- 
arated from  the  next  by  distinct  and  well-defined  lines,  that  wave 
and  curve  among  each  other  in  beautiful  and  endlessly-varied  con- 
figurations. 

The  reader  will  understand  all  this  much  better  by  examining 
some  piece  of  marble  paper,  if  he  can  find  a  specimen  at  hand. 
By  counting  the  number  of  colors,  you  can  ascertain  how  many 
sprinklings  were  required  for  that  particular  sheet,  and  by  observ- 
ing the  forms  of  the  different  masses  of  color  in  the  light  of  the 
explanation  given  above,  you  can  almost  determine  the  precise  or- 
der in  which  the  different  sprinklings  were  applied. 

Sometimes  the  arrangement  of  the  colors  on  the  liquid  in  the 
tank  is  modified  in  a  very  curious  way  by  drawing  a  sort  of  rake 
or  comb  along  the  surface  of  it.  The  instruments  used  for  this 
purpose  are  of  different  kinds,  varying  in  the  fineness  of  the  teeth, 
and  in  their  distance  from  each  other.  These  teeth,  being  drawn 
over  the  surface  of  the  liquid  in  the  tank,  have  the  effect  of  draw- 
ing the  colors,  as  they  term  it,  and  thus  modifying  the  configura- 
tions in  a  very  curious  manner,  producing  a  sort  of  honey-combed 
or  scalloped  appearance  very  difficult  to  describe,  but  which  those 
who  have  seen  it  will  easily  remember.  This  is  called  the  comb 
pattern. 

When  at  length  the  sprinkled  surface  is  ready,  the  workman 
takes  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  supposing  that  it  is  marbled  pajier 


MARBLING.  141 


How  the  colors  are  taken  up  by  the  paper.  Number  of  patterns. 

that  he  now  wishes  to  produce,  and  lays  it  carefully  down  upon 
the  liquid,  beginning  at  one  corner,  and  letting  the  sheet  gradually 
down  until  it  lies  wholly  on  the  liquid.  He  then  immediately 
proceeds  to  apply  a  second  sheet,  the  tank  being  of  a  size  to  re- 
ceive two  sheets  at  a  time.  He  then  takes  the  two  sheets  up 
again,  one  after  the  othei%  when  it  is  found  that  the  beautifully 
variegated  colors  which  have  been  floating  on  the  liquid  have  been 
wholly  transferred  to  the  sheets.  They  have  been  taken  up  by 
the  paper,  and  so  completely  absorbed,  too,  into  the  substance  of 
it,  that  the  surface,  all  wet  and  dripping  as  it  is,  may  be  rubbed 
with  the  finger  without  in  any  degree  disturbing  the  colors.  The 
sheets,  as  they  are  taken  up,  are  laid  across  a  wooden  rod,  and 
hung  upon  a  frame  near  by  to  drain  and  dry.  We  see  the  frame 
in  the  engraving,  with  the  sheets  hanging  on  it,  to  the  left  of  the 
workman. 

Of  course,  the  number  of  patterns  which  can  be  formed  by  the 
different  combinations  of  colors,  and  the  different  modes  of  apply- 
ing them,  are  infinitely  varied.  If,  for  example,  all  the  colors  that 
are  to  be  used  in  the  pattern  are  applied  to  the  liquid  before  the 
comb  is  drawn  over  the  surface  of  it,  then  one  effect  will  be  pro- 
duced ;  but  if  one  of  the  colors  is  reserved  until  after  the  combing, 
and  then  sprinkled  on,  the  effect,  as  may  easily  be  seen,  would  be 
totally  different,  and  this  difference  may  be  varied  by  reserving 
any  one  of  the  dozen  different  colors  that  are  to  be  applied.  And 
so  with  every  other  step  in  the  complicated  process. 

There  is  one  peculiar  pattern,  called  the  wave  pattern.  It  is 
characterized  by  a  series  of  waves  in  the  coloring.      The  waves 

s 


142  MAKBLING. 


The  wave  pattern.  How  it  is  produced.  The  burnishing. 

succeed  each  other  at  short  and  regular  intervals,  passing  diagon- 
ally across  the  sheet.  This  effect  is  produced  simply  by  the  mode 
of  laying  the  sheet  upon  the  colors.  The  workman  begins  at  one 
corner ;  but  then,  instead  of  letting  the  successive  portions  of  the 
paper  down  by  a  slow  and  uniform  motion,  he  gives  it,  very  dex- 
terously, a  series  of  gentle  impulses,  letting  down  the  paper  a  short 
space  at  each  impulse.  This  occasions  a  sort  of  fluctuation  on 
the  surface  of  the  liquid,  and  the  colors,  whatever  they  may  be, 
are  taken  up  in  waves. 

Then,  besides  the  fine  combs,  there  are  large  and  coarse  ones, 
with  teeth  several  inches  apart,  by  means  of  which  the  colors  may 
be  drawn  in  various  ways  over  the  surface  of  the  liquid,  so  as  to 
produce  the  appearance  of  streams,  and  an  endless  variety  of  other 
beautiful  configurations. 

It  will  easily  be  seen  that  the  number  of  patterns  which  may 
be  formed  by  the  different  combinations  of  these  and  other  similar 
elements  is  literally  infinite,  and,  of  course,  to  be  a  good  marbler, 
a  man  must  possess  excellent  judgment  and  taste,  as  well  as  great 
skill. 

The  beautiful  gloss  which  we  see  upon  finished  marble  paper 
does  not  appear  upon  it  when  it  first  comes  from  the  marbler's 
hands.  This  gloss  is  the  result  of  a  subsequent  process  of  bur- 
nishing,  which  is  represented  by  the  engraving  on  the  opposite 
page. 

The  burnishing  is  produced  by  means  of  a  piece  of  polished 
flint  or  agate,  which  passes  rapidly  to  and  fro  over  the  surface  of 


MARBLING. 


143 


View  of  the  burnishing  machine  in  action. 


BURNISHING. 


X 


144  MARBLING. 

Operation  of  the  burnishing  machine.  The  bed.  Skill  required. 

the  paper,  the  sheet  being  held  for  the  purpose  upon  a  sort  of  bed 
prepared  for  it  to  lie  upon,  on  a  very  solid  bench  or  table.  The 
burnisher,  as  is  shown  in  the  engraving,  is  attached  to  the  lower 
end  of  a  long  lever  that  descends  from  the  ceiling.  At  the  upper 
end  of  the  lever  is  a  joint,  by  means  of  which  the  lower  end  may 
be  moved  to  and  fro.  Near  the  lower  end  is  a  bar,  which  may  be 
seen  passing  off  toward  the  window,  where  it  is  attached  to  a  crank 
on  the  outer  side  of  the  wheel.  When  the  axle  of  that  wheel  is 
put  in  motion  by  means  of  the  band  coming  down  from  above  and 
passing  over  the  pulleys— seen  at  the  left-hand  end  of  the  axle — 
the  crank  is  turned,  and  the  bar  pulls  the  burnisher  to  and  fro 
very  rapidly  over  the  surface  of  the  paper. 

The  bed  on  which  the  paper  rests  while  undergoing  the  opera- 
tion is  a  block  of  wood  set  in  a  frame  that  is  screwed  to  the  bench. 
The  end  of  it  is  seen  in  the  engraving  under  the  sheet  of  paper. 
The  upper  surface  of  this  block  is  made  concave,  so  that  the  bur- 
nisher, in  moving  to  and  fro,  shall  always  be  in  contact  with  it. 
This  bed  is  not  absolutely  fixed,  but  is  susceptible  of  being  moved 
up  and  down,  so  as  to  press  with  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  force 
against  the  burnisher,  as  may  be  required.  This  pressure  is  reg- 
ulated by  means  of  a  strong  spring  connected  with  a  pedal  below. 

As  the  process  of  burnishing  goes  on,  the  operator  draws  the 
sheet  forward  by  a  very  slow  and  careful  motion,  so  as  to  subject 
all  parts  of  it  in  succession  to  the  polishing  effect  of  the  friction. 
It  requires  considerable  skill  to  manage  the  sheet  so  as  to  produce 
upon  it  a  smooth  and  uniform  gloss.  The  operator,  in  holding  the 
sheet,  begins  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  works  first  toward  the  farther 


FINISHING.  145 


Cases  made  separately  for  books  bound  in  muslin. 


side  by  drawing  the  sheet  gently  forward  as  the  process  goes  on. 
She  then  turns  the  sheet,  and,  taking  the  half  already  polished  to- 
ward her,  she  proceeds  with  the  operation  on  the  other  half  in  the 
same  manner. 

Not  only  marble  paper,  but  colored  papers  of  all  kinds  are  bur- 
nished in  this  manner. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FINISHING. 

When  books  are  to  be  bound  in  muslin,  the  covers  of  them  are 
not  formed  upon  the  book  itself,  but  are  made  and  finished  separ- 
ately, and  are  afterward  applied  to  the  book  and  properly  secured. 
These  covers,  before  they  are  applied  to  the  book,  are  called  cases. 
They  are  made  in  great  quantities  by  a  series  of  separate  process- 
es, each  workman  performing  one  process  upon  a  great  number  of 
covers,  and  then  passing  the  whole  stock  into  the  hands  of  anoth- 
er workman  for  the  next  process. 

Thus  one  cuts  out  the  pasteboard  for  the  sides  of  the  cover  by 
means  of  the  great  shears  shown  in  a  previous  engraving.  The 
frame  to  which  the  shears  are  fixed  is  so  made  that  the  pasteboard 
is  measured  by  the  very  operation  of  cutting  it.  The  workman 
has  only  to  slide  the  sheet  along  as  far  as  it  will  go,  and  then  cut. 
He  is  sure  to  cut  it  in  the  right  place  without  any  thought  or  care. 
By  this  plan,  the  work  is  not  only  performed  more  rapidly  and 
easily,  but  also  far  more  exactly,  than  would  be  possible  by  any 
other  method  of  measuring.  The  sides  thus  cut.  too,  arc  precisely 
m  K        >' 


146  FINISHING. 


Cutting  out  the  sides.  Description  of  the  process  of  gilding. 

of  the  same  size,. and  they  are  afterward  trimmed  so  square  and 
true  that,  when  they  are  piled  up  upon  each  other  on  the  table, 
they  seem  to  form,  as  it  were,  one  solid  block,  like  a  block  of  wood 
standing  on  end. 

Another  workman  cuts  out  the  muslin  or  the  leather,  whichever 
it  may  be,  that  the  book  is  to  be  covered  with.  This  operation  is 
performed  with  so  much  system,  and  with  such  excellent  arrange- 
ments for  facilitating  it,  that  the  work  is  done  with  astonishing  ra- 
pidity and  precision. 

Then  the  parts  of  the  case  are  put  together.  The  back,  connect- 
ing the  two  sides,  is  formed,  and  the  sides  are  covered  upon  the 
outside,  and  lined  within.  The  case  is  now  finished  as  to  its  form, 
and  it  is  taken  into  the  stamping-room  to  be  lettered,  and  also  em- 
bossed or  gilded  on  the  sides  or  back. 

In  the  engraving  on  the  opposite  page,  a  pile  of  covers  or  cases, 
such  as  are  used  for  the  bound  volumes  of  Harper's  Magazine,  or 
any  other  volume  of  that  size,  are  seen  lying  on  the  table  in  the 
foreground  on  the  left.  Other  piles  of  a  smaller  size  are  seen  upon 
the  tables,  where  the  girls  are  at  work  upon  them.  The  employ- 
ment of  these  girls  is  to  apply  the  gold  leaf  to  the  covers  in  the 
process  of  gilding  them  with  the  lettering  and  the  ornaments  of 
various  kinds  with  which  the  backs  of  handsomely-bound  books 
are  usually  embellished. 

The  manner  in  which  these  gilded  letters  and  ornaments  are 
made  is  very  curious.  To  illustrate  and  explain  it,  I  will  take  a 
very  simple  case.  Let  us  suppose  that  a  book  is  to  have  its  title 
— one  single  word,  we  will  say — put  on  in  gilded  letters  on  the 


FINISHING. 


147 


Mode  of  applying  the  gold. 


View  of  the  tables 


back,  and  that  this  word  is  to  be  put  in  letters  of  such  a  size  that 
it  will  occupy  a  space  about  half  an  inch  wide  directly  across  the 
back  of  the  book,  at  a  proper  distance  from  the  top.  The  cover  is 
brought  to  the  table  seen  in  the  engraving.  One  of  the  girls,  with 
a  small  piece  of  sponge,  which  she  has  dipped  previously  in  a  cer- 
tain preparation,  formed  chiefly  of  the  white  of  an  egg,  of  which 


X 


148  FINISHING. 


Detailed  account  of  the  process  of  gilding.  Mode  of  managing  the  gold. 

she  lias  a  supply  before  her  ready  for  use,  moistens  that  part  of 
the  cover  where  the  lettering  is  to  come.  She  then  cuts  out  a 
strip  of  gold  leaf  half  an  inch  wide,  and  long  enough  to  extend 
across  the  back  of  the  book,  and  places  it  upon  the  part  which  she 
has  moistened.  It  adheres  a  little,  and  forms  a  gilded  stripe 
across  the  case  in  the  place  where  the  letters  should  appear. 

This  is  what  the  girls  are  doing  at  the  long  table  in  the  pre- 
ceding engraving.  They  are  putting  on  strips  of  gold  on  all  those 
parts  of  the  cases  of  the  books  where  the  letters  or  the  ornaments 
are  to  come.  They  keep  their  supplies  of  gold  leaf  in  the  drawers; 
They  have  an  apparatus,  of  the  form  of  a  little  stool,  on  the  table 
before  them,  to  work  upon,  and  they  use  a  variety  of  curious  im- 
plements for  dividing  and  moving  the  gold  leaf,  which  is  so  thin 
and  light  that  the  least  breath  of  wind  would  blow  it  away.  In- 
deed, so  great  is  the  danger  of  this,  that  they  are  obliged  to  have 
a  sort  of  screen  placed  before  them  on  the  table,  to  shelter  their 
work  from  the  accidental  draughts  which  might  be  produced  in  the 
room  by  an  open  window,  or  by  persons  walking  to  and  fro.  This 
screen  consists  of  some  transparent  texture  spread  over  a  frame. 
Thus  it  does  not  intercept  the  light,  while  yet  it  protects  the  work 
from  the  slightest  movement  of  the  air. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  cover,  which  was  to  be  gilded  with  its 
title  only  on  the  back.  When  it  has  had  placed  upon  it  the  strip 
of  leaf  large  enough  for  the  title,  it  is  taken  to  a  kind  of  press  to 
be  stamped.  In  this  press  is  what  is  called  a  die — that  is,  a  block 
of  metal  with  the  letters  of  the  title  of  the  book  cut  upon  it  in  re- 
lief, precisely  as  the  letters  are  cut  upon  the  ends  of  the  steel 


FINISHING.  14^ 


Manner  of  fixing  the  gold. 


punches  used  in  type-founding,  as  lias  already  been  described. 
This  die  is  made  hot  when  it  is  placed  in  the  press  by  means  of 
steam  circulating  in  concealed  channels  around  it.  The  case  is 
then  slipped  in,  and  it  is  placed  with  the  face  downward  under  it, 
and  that  instant  the  bed  of  the  press  rises  by  the  action  of  the 
machinery,  and  forces  the  case  against  the  die.  Every  thing  is  so 
adjusted  beforehand  that,  in  coming  up,  the  faces  of  the  letters  are 
brought  to  bear  with  great  force  upon  the  strip  of  gold  leaf  which 
had  previously  been  laid  upon  the  case.  There  are  two  distinct 
effects  produced  by  the  operation.  First,  the  substance  of  the 
leather  or  the  muslin  that  comes  directly  upon  the  face  of  the  let- 
ters in  the  die  is  compressed,  and  an  indentation  is  made — one 
not  very  deep,  it  is  true,  but  still  very  certain  and  distinct.  And, 
secondly,  the  heat  of  the  die  causes  the  gold  leaf  to  adhere  where 
it  touches — that  is,  where  the  faces  of  the  letters  come,  while  it  has 
no  effect  on  the  other  parts.  Thus  that  portion  of  the  gold  leaf 
which  corresponds  with  the  letters  is  forced,  as  it  were,  into  in- 
dentations in  the  muslin  or  the  leather,  and  fixed  there  by  the  heat 
and  pressure  of  the  die,  while  all  the  rest  of  it  remains  at  liberty, 
and  may  be  wiped  away  by  a  cloth,  or  a  cushioned  brush  of  soft 
leather.  The  cover,  when  it  is  first  withdrawn  from  the  press, 
looks  very  much  as  it  did  when  it  went  in,  the  forms  of  the  letters 
being  at  first  scarcely  visible ;  but,  on  wiping  away  the  superflu- 
ous gold  leaf,  they  come  out  fully  to  view,  distinctly  defined,  and 
extremely  brilliant  and  beautiful. 

One  would  at  first  suppose  that  this  must  be  a  very  wasteful 
mode  of  making  gilded  letters,  inasmuch  as  so  large  a  portion  of 

>' 


150  FINISHING 


Apparent  waste.  The  drawer.  Press  for  stamping  and  embossing. 


the  leaf  first  applied  lias  afterward  to  be  brushed  or  wiped  away. 
It  is  true  that  only  a  small  part  of  the  whole  strip  which  the  girl 
first  puts  on  the  cover  remains  imprinted  there  by  the  action  of  the 
die,  for  the  space  lying  between  the  letters,  and  above  and  below 
them,  is  much  greater  than  that  occupied  by  the  faces  of  the  let- 
ters themselves.  But  then  the  portion  of  the  leaf  that  is  removed 
is  by  no  means  wasted  or  lost.  The  wiping  away  of  the  super- 
fluous gold  is  performed  at  a  table  well  protected  from  currents  of 
air,  and  having  holes  in  it  that  communicate  with  a  drawer  below. 
The  gold  leaf  that  is  rubbed  off  from  the  covers  of  the  books  pass- 
es down  through  these  holes  into  the  drawer,  and  once  in  three 
months  it  is  sent  to  the  goldsmith  and  sold  for  old  gold.  So  great 
is  the  amount  of  gilding  done  at  this  table,  that  the  value  of  the 
rubbish,  as  it  might  be  called,  which  accumulates  here  every  three 
months  is  not  less  than  three  hundred  dollars,  making  twelve 
hundred  dollars  a  year. 

The  engraving  on  the  opposite  page  shows  the  form  of  the 
press  used  for  the  stamping  process  just  described.  It  is  made 
very  solid  and  massive,  as  the  force  of  the  pressure  which  is  often 
required  is  enormously  great.  There  is  a  massive  top,  which  is 
called  the  platen,  the  function  of  it  being  the  same  as  that  of  a 
platen  of  a  printing-press,  namely,  to  stand  against  the  pressure 
of  the  bed  rising  from  below.  This  top  i«  supported,  or  rather  held 
down,  by  four  wrought  iron  pillars,  two  of  which  are  seen  in  the 
engraving.  It  is  obvious  that  the  chief  purpose  of  these  pillars 
is  to  hold  the  platen  down  rather  than  to  hold  it  up,  for  when  the 
bed  below  rises  at  the  time  of  stamping  or  embossing  a  case,  it 


FINISHING. 


151 


View  of  one  of  the  presses  used  for  stamping  and  embossing. 


FMlinsSING     PRESSES. 


s 


152  FINISHING. 


Necessity  of  great  strength  in  the  press.  Process  of  embossing 


lifts,  so  to  speak,  with  prodigious  force  against  the  platen,  and  if 
the  columns  that  hold  it  were  not  very  strong,  and  the  bolts  and 
screws  by  which  it  is  fastened  to  them  were  not  very  secure,  it 
would  be  forced  upward  bodily  and  broken  away. 

The  die  which  contains  the  letters  or  ornaments  that  are  to  be 
stamped  upon  the  case  is  placed  in  the  platen.  It  is  inserted  in 
a  receptacle  used  for  it  in  the  under  side  of  the  platen,  and  prop- 
erly secured  there.  There  is  a  circulation  of  steam  in  channels 
within  the  platen,  as  has  already  been  intimated,  which  serves  to 
keep  the  die  always  hot. 

Cases  can  be  stamped  in  these  processes  at  the  rate  of  sixteen 
impressions  a  minute — that  is,  as  fast  as  a  man  can  put  the  cases 
in  and  take  them  away ;  and  that  without  regard  to  the  amount 
of  gilding  that  may  be  required,  Avhether  it  be  only  a  single  line, 
or  whether  the  case  be  completely  covered. 

Sometimes  the  covers  of  books  are  embossed  with  ornamental 
figures  impressed  into  the  leather  or  muslin  without  gilding.  The 
patterns  for  this  embossing  are  cut  in  solid  brass  plates  of  the  size 
of  the  cover  to  which  they  are  to  be  applied.  A  great  number  of 
these  plates  are  seen  in  the  engraving,  on  the  shelves  at  the  end 
of  the  room. 

When  the  die  for  gilding,  or  the  side  plate,  as  the  case  may  be, 
is  fixed  in  its  proper  position  in  the  platen,  the  workman,  with  a 
pile  of  cases  at  hand,  sets  the  machine  in  motion,  and  the  bed — that 
is,  the  solid  mass  of  iron  which  forms  the  central  part  of  the  block 
which  the  man's  hands  are  resting  upon,  is  forced  upward  by  means 
of  what  is  called  a  knee-joint  below.      The  position  of  this  knee- 


FINISHING.  153 


Operation  of  a  knee  or  toggle  joint.  Great  force  exerted  by  it. 

joint  may  be  seen  in  the  engraving,  underneath  the  bed  of  the 
press.  This  sort  of  joint  is  often  used  in  presses.  It  is  some- 
times called  a  toggle  joint.  The  operation  of  it  may  be  illustrated 
in  this  way.  Suppose  a  man  to  stand  with  his  back  against  a 
wall,  and  then  to  bend  his  knees  a  little  forward.  Of  course,  by 
bending  his  knees,  his  head  is  made  to  descend.  Imagine  now  that 
a  by-stander  pushed  his  knees  in,  back  to  their  place,  so  as  to 
straighten  his  legs.  His  head  will  be  forced  up  again.  It  would 
be  forced  up,  too,  with  great  power — that  is,  provided  the  man  be 
made  of  iron,  and  with  no  joints  in  him  except  those  at  his  knees, 
and  if  they  are  bent  only  a  little.  It  is  true,  his  head  would  be 
forced  up  only  a  very  short  distance,  but  through  that  short  dis- 
tance it  would  rise  with  great  force. 

This  is  exactly  the  operation  of  a  knee  or  toggle  joint.  Look 
in  the  lower  part  of  the  press  in  the  engraving,  and  you  will  see 
the  iron  knees.  They  are  bent  a  little,  for  the  bed  of  the  press  is 
now  down.  A  man  is  just  putting  a  case  in.  In  a  moment  the 
knees  will  be  straightened  by  means  of  a  wheel  connected  with  a 
steam-engine  acting  on  a  case.  The  consequence  will  be,  that 
the  bed  will  be  forced  upward.  It  is  curious,  too,  that  as  the  knees 
become  more  and  more  nearly  straightened,  the  force  with  which 
the  bed  rises  becomes  more  and  more  powerful,  until  at  the  last 
instant,  when  the  knees  are  just  arriving  at  absolute  straightness, 
it  becomes  enormous.  This  ultimate  force  may,  moreover,  be  reg- 
ulated at  pleasure  by  bringing  the  platen  down  or  raising  it  up 
a  little.  The  platen,  and  consequently  the  die  or  side-plate  which 
it  contains,  may  be  adjusted  in  this  way  by  means  of  an  apparatus 


154  FINISHING. 


Mode  of  regulating  the  pressure.  Books  bound  in  leather.  Mode  of  gilding  them. 

above.  There  is  a  horizontal  wheel  to  he  seen  at  the  top  of  the 
press,  which  is  connected  Avith  a  system  of  wheels  and  screws  so 
contrived  that  the  workman,  by  stepping  up  upon  some  suppoi't, 
and  turning  this  wheel  one  way  or  the  other,  may  raise  or  depress 
the  platen  so  as  to  regulate  the  pressure  that  comes  upon  it  at 
his  will.  The  screws  hold  it  firmly  wherever  he  sees  fit  to  place  it. 
There  are  two  gauges  on  the  bed  of  the  press,  one  at  the  side 
and  one  at  the  end,  which  regulate  the  position  of  the  case  when 
it  is  put  into  the  press,  and  cause  it  to  take  the  impression  in  pre- 
cisely the  right  manner. 

When  books  are  to  be  bound  in  leather,  they  are  finished  in  a 
different  way.  In  this  case,  the  bands  to  which  the  sheets  are. 
sewed  are  fastened  securely  to  the  sides  of  the  cases,  and  the  cases 
are  then  covered,  lined,  and  finished  while  attached  to  the  book. 
The  engraving  on  the  opposite  page  gives  a  view  of  the  room  where 
these  operations  are  performed.  It  is  called  the  finishing-room. 
The  gilding  upon  the  books  is  applied  by  hand,  though  the  gen- 
eral principle  of  the  process  is  the  same  as  in  the  case  of  those 
stamped  in  the  machine.  The  furnaces  seen  upon  the  tables  are 
used  for  heating  the  stamps  by  which  the  gilding  is  fixed.  The 
tire  in  these  furnaces  is  a  flame  of  gas  diffused  over  a  considerable 
surface  on  the  bottom  of  the  furnace  within.  The  manner  of  using 
the  stamps  in  gilding  the  backs  of  the  books  is  seen  by  the  posi- 
tion of  the  figure  in  the  foreground,  at  the  end  of  the  central  table. 


FINISHING. 


155 


156  THE    DISTRIBUTION. 


Necessity  oflarge  supplies  of  books  on  hand. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE     DISTRIBUTION. 

In  order  to  have  always  on  hand  a  sufficient  supply  of  copies 
of  the  many  hundreds  of  works  published  by  the  house,  so  as  to 
be  able  promptly  to  fill  the  orders  from  the  trade  as  they  come 
in,  very  extensive  store-rooms  are  required  to  contain  the  books. 
In  the  early  part  of  this  volume,  an  explanation  was  given  of  the 
situation  and  arrangement  of  the  bins — in  number  almost  a  thou- 
sand— in  which  the  supplies  of  finished  books  are  kept ;  that  is, 
those  bound,  complete,  ready  for  delivery.  But  these  are  not  by 
any  means  the  most  considerable  portion  of  the  stores  kept  on 
hand.  The  principal  part  of  the  edition  of  any  book  that  is  print- 
ed is  kept  in  a  partially  finished  state  in  respect  to  binding,  and 
is  then  completed  in  quantities  as  copies  may  be  required. 

The  view  on  the  following  page  represents  one  of  the  ware- 
rooms  where  this  unfinished  stock  is  stored.  It  is  situated  on 
one  of  the  upper  floors  of  the  Franklin  Square  building,  across  the 
court  from  the  sewing-room,  which  is  on  a  floor  nearly  correspond- 
ing to  it  in  the  Cliff  Street  building.  The  sheets  of  each  new  edi- 
tion of  any  work,  after  being  dried,  pressed,  folded,  gathered,  and 
stitched  or  sewed,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  be  finished  at  very  short 
notice,  are  trundled  over  one  of  the  iron  bridges  that  leads  across 
the  court,  and  are  deposited  in  this  ware-room.  They  are  placed 
— the  sheets  of  each  work  by  themselves — in  bins,  similar  to  those 


THE   DISTRIBUTION. 


157 


The  stock-room. 


View  of  one  of  the  principal  avenues  in  it. 


THE   STOCK-KOOM. 


used  in  the  ware-rooms  for  finished  work  below.  These  bins  are 
built  up  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling,  and  stand  in  ranges,  divided 
by  passages  that  cross  each  other  at  right  angles,  and  furnish  very 
convenient  access  to  every  portion  of  the  stores.  It  is  only  a  very 
small  part  of  the  room  that  is  shown  in  the  engraving.      There  are 


158  THE    DISTRIBUTION. 


Store-rooms  for  unbound  books.  The  Magazine.  Immense  number  of  copies. 

two  principal  avenues,  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  long,  passing 
through  it  from  end  to  end,  only  one  of  which  is  here  seen. 

As  fast  as  is  necessary,  the  unfinished  books  are  taken  from 
these  bins,  in  quantities  of  hundreds  or  thousands,  as  the  case 
may  be,  and  conveyed  across  the  bridge  again  to  the  bindery  to 
be  finished.  Then  they  are  sent  down  by  the  hoistway  to  the 
great  sales-room  below,  to  replenish  the  bins  assigned  to  them  there 
which  have  been  emptied,  or  nearly  emptied,  by  previous  sales. 

In  this  lower  store-room  is  performed  the  work  of  selecting  and 
packing  the  books  ordered  by  the  correspondents  of  the  house,  and 
sending  them  away.  Every  morning  a  large  pile  of  letters  comes 
in  from  the  mail  from  booksellers,  committee-men,  librarians,  di- 
rectors of  public  institutions,  teachers,  and  gentlemen  in  private  life, 
containing  lists  of  the  books  which  they  wish  the  house  to  forward 
to  them.  These  lists  are  handed  to  the  clerks,  who  proceed  to  col- 
lect the  books  required  for  each,  and  to  arrange  and  pack  them. 

One  of  the  principal  operations  of  this  department  is  the  monthly 
distribution  of  the  edition  of  the  Magazine,  which  consists,  at  the 
present  time,  in  round  numbers,  of  one  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
copies.  Few  persons  have  any  idea  how  large  a  number  this  is 
as  applied  to  the  edition  of  a  book.  If  magazines  were  to  rain 
down,  and  a  man  had  only  to  pick  them  up  like  chips,  it  would 
take  him  a  fortnight  to  pick  up  the  copies  of.  one  single  number, 
supposing  him  to  pick  up  one  every  three  seconds,  and  to  work 
ten  hours  a  day. 

A  portion  of  the  edition  of  the  Magazine,  and  also  of  the  Story 
Books,  are  sent  off  in  bales  and  boxes  to  booksellers  and  agents 


THE    DISTRIBUTION. 


159 


View  of  the  office  where  the  Magazines  and  Story  Books  are  mailed. 


THE    MAGAZINE    CORNER. 


who  take  tliem  in  quantities.  Others  are  sent  to  individual  sub- 
scribers by  mail.  The  office  shown  in  the  engraving,  which  is 
situated  in  the  back  part  of  the  great  room  in  the  Franklin  Square 
building  that  contains  the  counting-room,  is  the  place  where  these 
copies  are  addressed,  and  then  mailed  in  bags  sent  from  the  Post- 


160  THE    DISTKIBUT10N. 


Authors  connected  with  the  Harper  Establishment. 


office  to  receive  them.     Here,  too,  all  the  accounts  are  kept  both 
of  the  Story  Books  and  the  Magazine. 

The  authors,  whose  writings  the  proprietors  and  conductors  of 
this  establishment  bring  before  the  public  by  the  aid  of  the  im- 
mense mechanical  means  and  facilities  they  have  at  their  command, 
and  the  still  more  immense  business  organization  which  they  have 
built  up,  and  which  extends  its  ramifications  to  almost  every  city 
street  and  every  rural  village  or  mountain  hamlet  throughout  the 
land,  are  very  numerous,  and  they  occupy  every  variety  of  intel- 
lectual and  social  position.  There  are  classical  scholars  who  pur- 
sue their  studies  in  learned  libraries,  and  make  profound  research- 
es into  Greek  and  Roman  lore.  There  are  intrepid  travelers,  who 
follow  whales  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  or  lose  themselves  among  the 
fields  and  mountains  of  ice  in  the  Polar  Seas.  There  are  clergy- 
men, who  instruct  the  world  with  their  expositions  of  Scripture, 
and  of  moral  and  religious  truth;  and  statesmen,  who  discuss  ques- 
tions of  politics ;  and  novelists,  who  invent  ingenious  tales  to  fur- 
nish amusement  and  recreation  for  the  weary  and  the  solitary ;  and 
tourists,  who  give  accounts  of  their  tours ;  and  embassadors,  who 
relate  the  history  of  their  embassies ;  and  multitudes  besides.  The 
productions  of  all  these,  and  of  many  others,  come  into  this  vast  es-» 
tablishment  each  in  the  form  of  a  single  roll  of  obscure  and  seem- 
ingly useless  manuscript,  and  then,  a  few  weeks  afterward,  are  is- 
sued in  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  copies,  beautifully 
printed,  embellished,  and  bound,  to  instruct,  entertain,  and  cheer 
many  millions  of  readers. 

THE    END. 


■  They  wondered  who  could  have  written  it.' 


90     @i 


<0> 


)(F) 


A   SERIES    OF    NARRATIVES,    DIALOGUES,    BIOGRAPHIES,    AND   TALES, 

FOR    THE    INSTRUCTION    AND    ENTERTAINMENT 

OF    THE    YOUNG. 


JJA©@[B   ^©tB®TTc 


NUMEROUS   AND   BEAUTIFUL   ENGRAVINGS. 


Entered,  according  to  an  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  fifty-five,  by 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE, 


Many  of  the  stories  in  this  series  are  narrations  of  imaginary 
incidents,  designed  to  illustrate  or  enforce  some  moral  truth,  or 
to  convey  some  useful  information.  Others  are  historically  true. 
The  present  volume  is  of  this  latter  class.  Those  who  read  it 
may  feel  assured  that  every  thing  which  is  stated  in  it  is  literally 
and  exactly  true. 

The  way  in  which  these  minute  particulars  beqame  known  in 
respect  to  the  early  life  of  the  great  philosopher,  was  through  a 
narrative  of  them  which  he  wrote  himself,  in  the  latter  part  of  his 
life,  and  which  is  known  in  the  world  of  letters  as  the  Autobiog- 
raphy of  Benjamin  Franklin.  A  biography,  simply,  is  an  account 
of  the  life  of  any  person.  An  autobiography  is  an  account  of 
the  life  of  any  person,  written  by  himself.  It  is  an  excellent 
thing  for  any  intelligent  boy,  who  is  so  far  advanced  in  his  educa- 
tion as  to  write  a  tolerably  fluent  and  uniform  hand,  to  compose 
a  history  of  his  childhood,  in  which  he  will  narrate,  in  a  clear  and 
copious  maimer,  the  incidents  and  adventures,  the  difficulties  and 
the  mistakes,  the  joys  and  the  sorrow's  of  his  earlier  days.  Girls 
can  do  this  too,  and  in  some  respects  even  more  advantageously 
than  boys.     By  writing  half  a  chapter  every  week,  the  work 


PREFACE. 


would  be  finished  in  a  winter,  and  it  would  not  only  be  a  great 
means  of  improvement  to  the  writer,  as  a  literary  exercise  while 
performing  it,  but  it  would  be  a  great  source  of  entertainment 
and  pleasure  to  him  to  read  it  in  the  later  years  of  his  life. 

The  proper  mode  of  executing  the  wrork  would  be  to  make  some 
particular  scene,  or  incident,  or  adventure  the  subject  of  each  chap- 
ter— to  write  the  account  of  it  very  fully,  inserting  all  the  inter- 
esting particulars,  and  recording  the  conversations  and  dialogues 
that  occurred — and  then  after  carefully  revising  and  correcting  the 
composition,  to  transcribe  it  with  great  care  in  a  suitable  book 
procured  for  the  purpose.  A  very  ingenious  boy  or  girl  would 
embellish  the  work,  perhaps,  with  little  maps  or  plans  illustrating 
the  narratives,  or  with  sketches  in  pencil,  or  in  ink,  of  the  places 
or  objects  referred  to  in  the  story. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  WHY  WE    CELEBRATE   THE    FOURTH  OF    JULY 13 

II.  THE    CHILDHOOD  OF  FRANKLIN 20 

III.  SELF-INSTRUCTION 23 

IV.  QUARRELING 30 

V.  CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP 3-4 

XI.  HARDSHIP   AND    SUFFERING 42 

vn.  DOWN    THE   DELAWARE    RIVER 51 

VIII.  SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA 58 

IX.  MR.  KEIMER'S    PRINTING-OFFICE 68 

X.  FRANKLIN    GOES    TO   WORK *75 

XI.  A    VISIT    FROM    THE  GOVERNOR 79 

XIT.  VISIT   TO    BOSTON 85 

Xin.  THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA 92 

XIV.  BAD    COMPANY 100 

XV.  EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND 108 

XVI.  LONDON 118 

XVn.  RALPH 1 24 

XVHI.  THE   END    OF    BOYHOOD 130 

XIX.  SWTMMLNG 139 

XX.  THE   RETURN    TO    AMERICA 155 


ENGRAVINGS. 


PAGE 

franklin's  first  communication Frontispiece. 

THE    COMMITTEE    OF    CONGRESS 16 

THE    ERRAND-BOY 20 

THE    STATESMAN 20 

LISTENING   TO   THE   MUSIC 22 

NOCTURNAL   STUDIES 24 

FRANKLIN    AT   HIS   DINNER 26 

QUARRELING 33 

FORMING    A   PLAN 40 

TRAVELING  IN    THE    RAIN 42 

THE    SQUALL 45 

THE   SURF  BOAT 48 

HOSPITALITY 53 

THE    THREE    PENNY    ROLLS 58 

CHARITY 61 

ASLEEP    IN    MEETING 64 

A  CONVERSATION 7  2 

SHOWING  THE   MONEY 88 

GOOD    COUNSEL 94 

THE    GOVERNOR'S    LIBRARY 98 

DEBORAH 99 

FAREWELL    TO    DEBORAH 114 

THE    LETTER   OF   INTRODUCTION 121 

THE    BOOK-STORE 124 

READING   IN   THE    FIELDS 125 

THE    HEAVY    FORMS 132 

THE    LANDLADY 136 

THE   NUN 137 

BARGES    ON    THE    RIVER 143 

DOG    IN    THE    WATER 154 


FRANKLIN, 

THE    APPRENTICE    BOY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHY    WE    CELEBRATE    THE    FOURTH    OF    JULY, 


Origin  of  the  American  Revolution.  The  true  cause  of  it. 

"DENJAMIN  FRANKLIN  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
■*-'  statesmen  of  America  at  the  period  of  the  Revolution.  The 
Revolution  took  place  about  seventy-five  years  ago. 

Before  the  Revolution,  all  the  states  of  America  were  colonies 
of  England.  They  were  ruled  by  governors  that  were  sent  out 
here  from  England.  The  American  people  quarreled  with  these 
governors,  and  with  the  rules  and  laws  which  were  made  for  them 
in  England,  and,  finally,  the  quarrel  became  so  great  that  they  de- 
termined that  they  would  be  independent  of  England  altogether. 
They  made  various  complaints  against  the  government  which 
the  English  had  exercised  over  them,  and  yet  it  is  probable  that, 
while  they  were  colonies,  they  were  really  ruled  as  well  as  most 
other  nations  were  ruled  in  those  days.  The  true  reason  for  the 
Revolution,  after  all,  was  not  so  much  that  the  colonies  were  gov- 
erned badly  by  the  English,  as  that  they  did  not  choose  to  be  gov- 
erned at  all  by  a  foreign  nation,  three  thousand  miles  away,  but 
preferred  rather  to  govern  themselves.  This  was  a  very  good 
reason. 


16 


THE    FOURTH    OF    JULY. 


The  Committee  of  Congress  preparing  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 


THE    FOURTH    OF    JULY.  17 

Names  of  the  members  of  the  committee. 

To  prevent  the  possibility,  therefore,  of  a  tie  in  a  committee,  it 
is  customary,  as  has  already  been  said,  to  have  the  number  of 
members  odd.  Then  there  will  always  be  a  majority  on  one  side 
of  the  question  or  on  the  other. 

So  there  were  five  men  appointed  on  this  committee.  They 
were  all  men  of  great  influence  and  distinction.  The  committee 
met,  and  held  a  consultation  in  respect  to  the  manner  in  which 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  should  be  drawn  up  ;  and,  when 
they  had  agreed  upon  this,  they  appointed  one  of  their  number, 
Mr.  Jefferson,  to  write  the  first  draft.  When  he  had  made  the 
draft,  the  committee  came  together  again  to  hear  it  read,  in  order 
to  see  if  they  had  any  alterations  to  make  in  it  before  reporting  it 
to  Congress. 

In  this  picture  we  see  the  committee  assembled  to  hear  Mr. 
Jefferson's  draft  read.  The  man  who  is  reading  it  is  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son. This  Mr.  Jefferson  was  afterward  made  President  of  the 
United  States  when  the  independence  of  the  country  was  estab- 
lished. The  rest  are  listening.  They  are  listening  very  atten- 
tively. They  are  considering  not  merely  how  they  like  the  Dec- 
laration themselves,  but  also  how  the  people  will  like  it ;  for,  in 
making  such  a  declaration,  Congress  would  be  speaking,  not  for 
themselves,  but  for  the  inhabitants  of  all  the  thirteen  colonies. 

They  are  also  considering  what  the  government  and  people  of 
England  will  be  likely  to  think  of  the  reasons  they  give  why  the 
colonies  should  separate  from  the  mother  country,  and  what  all 
the  other  nations  of  the  earth  will  think  of  them.  In  fact,  the  pre- 
paring of  this  declaration  was  a  business  of  the  most  momentous 
and  solemn  character.  These  men  feel  it  to  be  so,  as  is  evident 
11  B        ^ 


18  THE    FOURTH    OF    JULY. 

The  several  members  of  the  committee  described. 

from  the  very  serious  and  earnest  expression  of  countenance  which 
they  manifest  on  hearing  it  read. 

The  man  who  sits  in  the  chair  in  the  foreground  is  Franklin. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  committee.  The  one  behind  him,  with 
a  head  nearly  bald,  is  John  Adams.  He  was  a  very  distinguished 
man  in  those  days,  and  he  too,  as  well  as  Jefferson,  was  afterward 
chosen  President  of  the  United  States.  The  names  of  the  other 
two  are  Sherman  and  Livingston. 

Observe  the  dresses  of  these  men.  How  different  they  are 
from  the  present  fashion  !  What  long  vests  and  curiously  cut 
coats  !  The  stockings  are  long  too,  and  the  shoes  are  fastened 
with  great  buckles. 

There  is  an  inkstand  and  a  pen  upon  the  table.  This  is  because 
there  may  be  some  alteration  that  they  may  wish  to  make  in  the 
draft  of  the  Declaration. 

The  result  of  this  consultation  was,  that  the  committee  ap- 
proved of  the  draft  which  Mr.  Jefferson  made,  and  in  a  day  or 
two  they  read  it  in  Congress.  Then  there  followed  a  long  de- 
bate. Some  were  in  favor  of  adopting  it,  and  so  separating  this 
country  from  England  forever.  Others  thought  it  best  not  to  sep- 
arate. When,  at  length,  the  time  came  for  voting,  it  was  found 
that,  out  of  the  thirteen  colonies,  nine  were  for  adopting  the  Dec- 
laration, and  four,  for  various  reasons,  were  unwilling  to  vote  for 
it.  At  length,  however,  after  some  farther  consultation  and  dis- 
cussion, they  all  agreed  to  it.  Congress  adopted  it,  and  all  the 
members  signed  it  but  one. 

The  day  on  which  Congress  adopted  and  signed  the  Decla- 
ration happened  to  be  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  accordingly,  ever 


THE    FOURTH    OF    JULY.  19 


The  Declaration  of  Independence.  Complaints  against  the  English  government. 

since  that  day,  the  Fourth  of  July  has  been  celebrated  in  America 
as  the  birth-day,  as  it  were,  of  the  nation.  It  is  called  sometimes 
Independence  Day,  because  it  was  a  declaration  of  independence 
that  Congress  adopted. 

The  Declaration  of  Independence,  as  adopted  by  Congress,  con- 
sisted in  a  great  measure  of  complaints  against  the  English  govern- 
ment in  respect  to  their  management  of  the  colonies,  and  the  state- 
ment of  these  complaints  was  very  probably,  as  is  usual  in  such 
cases,  more  or  less  exaggerated.  The  Declaration  used  to  be 
read  for  many  years  every  Fourth  of  July  as  a  part  of  the  cele- 
bration of  the  day  ;  but  this  practice  is  fast  going  out  of  use,  for 
nobody  cares  any  thing  now  about  those  old  quarrels.  Besides, 
the  whole  generation  of  English  people  that  were  alive  in  those 
days  has  passed  away,  and  a  new  generation  has  come  upon  the 
stage  that  are  very  friendly  to  the  Americans.  There  is,  there- 
fore, now  no  longer  any  use  in  keeping  up  the  memory  of  the 
complaints  which  our  fathers  made  against  their  fathers.  It  is 
much  better  to  place  the  independence  of  the  United  States  of 
America  on  the  ground  that  every  great  community  of  people 
have  a  right  to  the  management  of  their  own  affairs  so  soon  as 
they  become  sufficiently  extended,  organized,  and  powerful  to 
take  it.  On  this  ground,  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  now  admit 
the  rightfulness  of  the  independent  government  of  America,  and 
the  particular  disputes  and  quarrels  which  happened  to  attend  the 
separation  are  no  longer  of  any  consequence.  It  is  better  to  for- 
get them. 


20 


CHILDHOOD    OF    FRANKLIN. 


Picture  of  Franklin  carrying  candles. 


Franklin  the  statesman. 


CHAPTER   II. 


THE    CHILDHOOD    OF    FRANKLIN. 


Here  is  a  picture  of  Franklin 
doing  errands  for  his  father  when  he 
was  a  small  boy.  He  is  carrying 
some  candles  home  to  a  customer  ; 
for  his  father,  you  must  understand, 
kept  a  candle  shop,  and  Benjamin 
used  to  carry  the  candles  home  to 
the  customers  when  they  bought 
them. 


And now 
J  here  is  an- 
other pict- 
ure of  him, 
representing  him  as  he  was  in  after  life, 
when  he  became  a  great  statesman,  and 
was  employed  by  government  to  write 
dispatches,  and  negotiate  treaties,  and  to 
perform  other  great  public  functions. 

Observe  how  great  is  the  difference. 
In  the   one   case  he  is   a  small  boy ;  in 
the    other,    a   full-grown    and   venerable 
man.     In  the  former,  his  face  beams  with  light-heartedness  and 
gayety  ;  in  the  other,  it  wears  the  expression  of  thought,  of  weighty 


CHILDHOOD    OF    FRANKLIN.  21 

A  great  difference.  Franklin's  father  a  candle-maker. 


responsibility,  and  of  care.  The  boy  is  erect,  elastic,  and  full  of 
vigor,  and  his  eyes  are  bright  and  beaming.  The  man  is  bowed 
with  age,  and  his  sight  is  dimmed,  so  that  he  must  wear  spectacles 
to  enable  him  to  see.  The  boy  has  a  mind  that  is  fresh,  active,  and 
vigorous,  but  it  is  undeveloped.  He  has  laid  up  little  knowledge, 
and  his  judgment  is  immature.  He  can  carry  candles  about,  it  is 
true,  for  that  requires  but  little  thought.  The  man,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  a  mind  that  is  matured,  and  stored  with  a  thorough  and 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  vast  expansion  and  intricate  details  of  na- 
tional affairs.  He  is  drawing  up  a  treaty,  perhaps,  or  arguing  some 
national  cause  on  which  the  welfare  of  millions  of  families  depends. 

Your  father,  reader,  is  perhaps  an  independent  and  thriving 
man,  with  constant  and  profitable  employment,  and  an  income  suf- 
ficient to  enable  him  to  provide  abundantly  for  all  the  wants  of  his 
family.  There  are  carpets  on  the  floor  in  your  house,  and  curtains 
at  the  windows,  and  books  upon  the  shelves,  and  the  children  can 
all  go  to  the  school  to  be  instructed.  Now  it  is* very  probable  that 
it  is  owing  to  some  of  Franklin's  negotiations  or  treaties,  or  to 
some  of  the  constitutions  or  laws  which  he  helped  to  frame,  that 
your  father,  and  thousands  of  others,  are  in  so  prosperous  a  condi- 
tion. Had  it  not  been  for  him,  and  for  other  statesmen  like  him, 
a  vast  number  of  the  people  of  America,  who  are  now  prosperous 
and  happy,  might  have  been  poor  day-laborers,  living,  like  the 
peasants  of  Europe,  in  wretched  huts,  and  toiling  all  the  time 
merely  to  get  food  enough  to  keep  them  alive  from  day  to  day. 

Franklin's  father  was  a  candle-maker.  He  lived  in  Boston. 
The  place  where  he  lived  was  near  the  head  of  Milk  Street.  He 
lived  in  a  small  wooden  house,  which  has  long1  since  been  taken 


22 


CHILDHOOD    OF    FRANKLIN. 


The  birth-place  of  Franklin 


Picture  of  the  family. 


down.  The  people,  however,  who  took  it  down  remembered  that 
Franklin  was  born  there,  and,  many  years  afterward,  some  wealthy 
merchants  built  a  block  of  granite  stores  upon  the  place,  and  they 
put  an  inscription  on  the  buildings,  in  very  large  letters,  cut  in  the 
stone,  near  the  top  of  the  building,  Birth-place  of  Franklin. 

If  you  ever  visit  Boston,  go  to  the  head  of  Milk  Street,  to  the 
side-walk  before  the  Old  South  Church,  and  walk  down  a  little 
way,  looking  to  the  top  of  the  buildings  on  the  other  side,  and  you 
will  see  the  inscription  there. 

It  was  here,  therefore,  that  Franklin  spent  the  first  years  of  his 
life.  He  used  to  work  in  his  father's  shop,  helping  to  make  can- 
dles. His  part  was  to  cut  the  wicks  and  prepare  the  moulds. 
Then,  when  there  were  errands  to  do,  he  was  sent  to  do  them. 
He  lived,  of  course,  at  home  all  this  time  with  his  father  and  moth- 
er.    Here  is  a  picture  of  the  family. 


SELF-INSTRUCTION.  23 


Franklin's  brother  and  sisters.  Advantages  enjoyed  at  the  present  day. 

Young  Benjamin  is  leaning  back  against  the  table,  listening  to 
his  father,  who  is  playing  some  tunes  on  the  violin.  His  father 
was  a  very  good  musician,  and  Benjamin,  as  well  as  all  the  other 
members  of  the  family,  used  to  like  very  much  to  hear  him  play. 
Even  the  little  child  that  you  see  on  the  right,  leaning  upon  her 
mother's  lap,  seems  to  be  listening  very  intently.  She  is  Benja- 
min's sister.  Benjamin  had  two  sisters  younger  than  himself,  and 
he  had  quite  a  number  of  brothers  and  sisters  that  were  older. 
They  are  not  represented  in  the  picture,  for  at  this  time  they  had 
most  of  them  grown  up  and  gone  away.* 

Now  how  was  it  that  Franklin,  being  a  mere  message-boy,  car- 
rying candles,  a  pound  at  a  time,  about  the  village  of  Boston — for 
Boston  was  then  only  a  village — became  so  great  a  statesman  and 
philosopher  that  his  usefulness,  influence,  and  fame  extended  over 
the  whole  civilized  world. 

We  shall  see. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SELF-INSTRUCTION. 

Benjamin  Franklin  had  very  few  opportunities  of  learning, 
except  what  he  made  for  himself.  Boys  at  the  present  day  gen- 
erally spend  their  time  in  early  life  in  going  to  .school,  where  they 
have  every  necessary  convenience  for  learning,  and  good  instruc- 
tion.    Franklin,  on  the  other  hand,  was  obliged  to  study  without 

*  Upon  the  table  are  writing  materials,  and  underneath  it  is  a  stool  of  the  proper 
height  for  Benjamin,  when  sitting  at  the  table  and  learning  to  write. 


24 


SELF-INSTRUCTION. 


Choosing  a  trade. 


Franklin  decides  to  become  a  printer. 


conveniences  and  without  instruction.  It  is  true  he  went  to  school 
for  a  while  at  first.  His  father  sent  him,  and  he  was  very  glad  to 
go.  He  learned  in  this  way  to  read  and  write,  and  so  made  a  be- 
ginning. 

One  of  the  first  things  which  afterward  indicated  the  desire 
which  Franklin  felt  to  cultivate  his  mind,  was  the  preference  he 
expressed  in  regard  to  the  business  which  he  should  follow.  He 
told  his  father  that  he  would  rather  have  some  other  business 
than  that  of  a  candle-maker.  His  father  proposed  several  other 
trades  to  him,  and  walked  about  Boston  with  him  a  great  deal  to 
see  the  different  shops,  in  order  that  he  might  compare  one  trade 
with  another,  and  determine  which  he  would  prefer.  He  finally 
decided  upon  being  a  printer,  because  he  thought  that  in  this  bus- 
iness he  should  see  a  great  many  books,  and  have  opportunity 
to  read  and  study  them.     It  is  true  that  he  would  have  to  work 

nearly  all  day  in  the  printing- 
office,  but  then  he  thought  that 
he  could  take  the  books  home 
with  him  at  night,  and  read  them 
in  his  room,  and  also  that  he 
could  read  them  at  noon,  when 
he  was  eating  his  dinner. 

Here  is  a  picture  of  Franklin 
reading  his  books  at  night,  when 
he  was  serving  as  an  apprentice 
in  a  printing-office.  He  used  to 
borrow  the  books  of  the  boys 
that  were  employed  in  the  book-stores  of  the  town.     These  boys 


SELF-INSTRUCTION.  25 


Franklin  borrows  books  to  read.  The  boy  and  the  pitch-pine  knots. 

were  accustomed  to  come  to  the  printing-office  where  Franklin 
worked  with  errands  from  the  booksellers,  and  so  he  got  acquaint- 
ed with  them.  They  used  sometimes  to  lend  him  books  out  of 
the  book-stores.  In  such  cases,  Franklin  would  be  very  careful  of 
the  books  so  borrowed,  and  sometimes  he  would  sit  up  almost  all 
night  to  finish  reading  one  which  he  thought  he  must  return  the 
next  morning,  This  was  not  a  good  plan.  It  is  a  great  deal  bet- 
ter to  do  what  we  have  to  do  in  regular  hours.  It  endangers  the 
health  and  the  eyesight  to  sit  up  late  at  night,  reading  and  study- 
ing. 

I  have  known  some  boys  who  had  even  greater  difficulties  than 
these  of  Franklin's  to  contend  with  in  acquiring  knowledge.  One 
that  I  knew  lived  in  a  log-house,  and  his  father  and  mother  had  no 
candles.  So  he  made  torches  of  pitch-pine  wood,  by  splitting  up 
the  wood  into  long,  slender  bars.  He  would  light  one  of  these 
torches  in  the  fire,  and  then  insert  the  end  of  it  into  one  of  the 
crevices  between  the  stones  of  the  chimney.  This  was  the  only 
way  that  he  could  have  any  opportunity  to  read  and  learn,  for  dur- 
ing all  the  day-time  he  was  obliged  to  work  on  his  father's  farm. 

This  boy  had  only  a  few  fragments  of  books.  With  these  he 
taught  himself  to  read,  after  his  mother  had  taught  him  his  letters. 
He  had  a  part  of  an  Arithmetic,  and  in  learning  to  cipher  with  this, 
he  used  a  board  for  a  slate  in  doing  the  sums,  and  a  piece  of  chalk 
for  a  pencil. 

Observe  in  what  a  plain  and  humble  style  Franklin's  room  is 
furnished  in  the  picture.  He  is  seated  on  a  stool,  with  a  table 
before  him,  and  one  candle.  I  suppose  he  got  his  candles  at  his 
father's  shop.     His  bed  is  seen  indistinctly  in  the  background. 


26 


SELF-INSTRUCTION. 


Franklin  eating  his  dinner  in  the  printing-office. 


Franklin  used  to  read,  too,  at  noon,  in  the  printing-office,  while 
he  was  eating  his  dinner.     He  used  to  huy  his  own  dinner,  and  eat 

it  at  the  office,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  read  while  he  was 
eating  it.  He  had  no  meat 
at  his  dinner,  but  only  bread ; 
and  he  drank  nothing  but 
water.  You  can  see  the 
pitcher  that  contained  the 
water  on  the  table  in  the 
picture.  The  table  and  the 
stool  are  very  plain,  such  as 
they  would  be  likely  to  have 
at  a  printing-office.  The 
stool  was  a  high  one,  made 
to  stand  before  a  high  desk, 
and  Franklin,  being  not  yet 
very  tall,  could  not  put  his 
feet  down  to  the  floor,  so  he 
put  them  upon  one  of  the 
rounds. 

The  books  which  he  read 
on  these  occasions  were  not  story-books  altogether,  but  books  of 
solid  instruction.  One  of  the  books  which  he  took  most  interest 
in  was  "  Locke  on  the  Human  Understanding,"  a  book  which  a  boy 
of  his  age  must  read  and  study  very  attentively  indeed  in  order  to 
understand  it  at  all. 

The  printing-office  where  Franklin  served  his  apprenticeship 


SELF-INSTRUCTION.  27 


The  newspaper.  Advantages  of  writing  composition. 

was  his  brother's.  His  brother  was  a  great  deal  older  than  he 
was,  and  there  was  very  little  friendship  or  sympathy  between 
them. 

There  was  a  newspaper  printed  in  the  office,  and  Franklin 
used  to  read  it  very  attentively,  and  observe  very  carefully  how 
the  articles  were  written.  He  used  also  to  write  himself  some- 
times, in  order  to  acquire  practice  in  expressing  his  ideas  upon 
paper,  knowing  well  of  what  great  value  the  power  of  writing  in 
a  forcible  and  ready  manner  would  be  to  him  when  he  became  a 
man.  Sometimes  he  would  write  down  his  opinions  on  some  sub- 
ject which  he  had  been  reflecting  upon,  at  other  times  he  would 
write  arguments  in  favor  of  some  principle  which  he  thought  he 
could  prove  to  be  a  true  one.  He  wrote  poetry,  too,  by  taking 
some  little  story  and  turning  it  into  verse.  There  is  nothing 
more  excellent  that  a  spirited  boy,  who  wishes  to  improve  his 
mind,  and  increase  his  future  power  as  a  man,  can  do,  than  to 
practice  composition  in  this  manner.  Unfortunately,  however, 
most  boys,  and  even  many  girls,  at  the  present  day,  are  very 
averse  to  such  an  exercise.  Not  only  do  they  never  attempt  it 
themselves  of  their  own  accord,  but  when  their  teachers  assign  it 
to  them  as  a  duty,  instead  of  undertaking  it  with  alacrity  and 
pleasure,  and  doing  the  best  they  can,  they  make  all  manner  of 
resistance,  and  try  all  possible  means  of  escaping  from  the  task. 

Franklin  once  concluded  to  write  an  article  for  his  brother's 
paper.  So  he  chose  some  subject  which  he  thought  would  be 
suitable,  and  wrote  his  thoughts  upon  it,  taking  care  to  express 
them  in  as  plain  and  forcible  a  manner  as  possible.  When  his 
article  was  finished,  he  copied  it  carefully,  disguising  his  hand  as 


28  SELF-INSTRUCTION. 


Franklin's  anonymous  communication.  Effect  produced  by  it. 

much  as  he  could,  and  then  slipped  it  in,  one  night,  under  the 
office  door,  where  his  brother  found  it  in  the  morning. 

His  brother  read  the  communication,  and  liked  it  very  much. 
Now  it  happened  that  there  were  several  gentlemen  of  Boston 
who  had  taken  a  great  interest  in  the  paper,  and  who  used  to 
write  for  it  themselves,  and  to  come  to  the  office  sometimes  to 
consult  about  the  articles  that  were  to  appear  in  it.  Two  of 
these  gentlemen  happened  to  call  in  on  the  morning  that  Frank- 
lin's article  was  found,  and  his  brother  showed  it  to  them.  He 
told  them  that  he  had  found  it  under  the  door.  He  read  it  to 
them.  They  were  much  pleased  with  it,  and  wondered  who  could 
have  written  it.  All  this  time  Franklin  was  close  by,  standing  at 
the  case  where  he  had  been  setting  up  type,  and  he  heard  all  they 
said  about  his  article.* 

You  can  see  by  the  picture  what  is  the  nature  of  the  arrange- 
ment which  they  make  for  setting  up  types  in  a  printing-office. 
The  types  are  put  in  a  case,  as  it  is  called,  which  is  divided  into 
small  compartments.  Each  kind  of  type  is  in  a  compartment  by 
itself.  There  are  always  two  of  these  cases,  one  above  the  other, 
and  these  are  placed  as  you  see  them  in  the  Frontispiece,  on  the 
right.  The  workman  has  the  sheet  of  paper  which  contains  what 
he  wishes  to  print,  set  up  before  him  at  the  top  of  the  case.  You 
can  see  the  sheet  that  Franklin  is  printing  from,  pinned  up  at  the 
top  of  his  upper  case.  The  workman  looks  upon  his  sheet  and 
sees  what  the  word  is,  and  then  spells  it  out  by  taking  the  types 
from  the  proper  compartments.  The  types  are  about  an  inch 
long,  and  each  one  has  the  form  of  its  letter  projecting  at  one 

*  See  Frontispiece. 


SELF-INSTRUCTION.  29 


Process  of  printing.  The  cases.  The  composing-stick. 

end  of  it.  The  workman  takes  these  types  out,  and  arranges 
them  in  a  little  frame  which  he  holds  in  his  hand.  This  frame 
is  large  enough  to  hold  eight  or  ten  lines,  and  sometimes  more. 
When  it  is  full,  he  puts  what  it  contains  in  a  larger  wooden  frame, 
and  then  sets  up  some  more  types,  until  at  length  he  gets  enough 
for  a  page.  Then  he  ties  a  string  around  the  page,  to  keep  the 
types  from  falling  down,  and  puts  the  whole  on  a  solid  table, 
which  has  a  stone  or  iron  top,  and  then  proceeds  to  set  up  another 
page.  So  he  goes  on  until  he  has  pages  enough  for  a  whole  sheet 
of  paper. 

When  he  has  got  all  these  pages  arranged,  he  puts  a  heavy 
iron  frame  over  them,  and  wedges  the  pages  very  tight,  each  in 
its  own  compartment  of  the  frame.  You  will  see  two  of  these 
frames  full  of  types  in  another  picture  by-and-by,  and  Franklin 
carrying  them  up  stairs.  They  are  very  heavy,  for  the  types  are 
made  of  metal,  and  when  so  many  of  them  are  set  up  together,  it 
makes  a  very  heavy  mass. 

Of  course,  when  these  great  frames  are  put  upon  the  printing 
press,  the  types  that  make  up  the  pages  are  all  standing  up  in  the 
pages  endwise,  with  the  letters  on  the  upper  ends  of  them.  It  is 
necessary  to  make  sure  that  the  lower  end  of  all  these  types  are 
down  upon  the  stone,  so  as  to  have  the  faces  of  the  letters  all  on 
the  same  level.  To  do  this,  they  put  a  block  on  over  the  faces  of 
the  types,  and  then  strike  on  the  top  of  the  block  gently  with  a 
mallet.  You  can  see  Franklin's  mallet  hanging  by  his  side,  just 
below  the  case.     It  hangs  by  a  string  attached  to  the  handle. 

When  the  pages,  thus  wedged  into  their  great  frame,  are  prop- 
erly placed  upon  the  press,  the  workman  inks  the  faces  of  the 


30  QUARRELING 


Danger  of  hasty  judgments.  Good  and  bad  characters. 

types  all  over  in  a  peculiar  manner,  and  then  lays  the  sheet  of 
paper  on,  and  presses  it  down  strongly.  This  prints  the  forms  of 
all  the  letters  upon  the  sheet  of  paper. 

If  any  of  the  letters  are  placed  wrong,  the  word  will  of  course 
come  wrong  on  the  sheet.  Hence,  to  be  a  good  printer,  one  must 
be  a  very  careful  man. 


CHAPTER  IV 


QUARRELING. 


In  story-books  and  tales  written  to  amuse  the  reader,  the  char- 
acters are  generally  either  entirely  good  or  entirely  bad.  But  in 
real  life  it  is  not  so.  In  human  nature,  as  we  see  it  in  living  real- 
ity around  us,  the  good  and  bad  are  always  more  or  less  mixed 
together.  The  best  people  have  some  bad  qualities,  and  some- 
times act  wrong,  while  the  worst  people  have  many  good  qualities, 
and  sometimes  act  right  and  nobly.     , 

Wise  people  are  aware  of  this,  and  so,  when  they  see  any  one 
who,  upon  first  acquaintance,  seems  very  good,  they  do  not  allow 
themselves  to  get  too  extravagant  in  their  admiration  of  him. 

"  When  we  come  to  know  him  better,"  they  say  to  themselves, 
"we  shall  very  probably  find  that  he  has  some  faults." 

In  the  same  manner,  when  they  see  a  man  whose  character  ap- 
pears to  be  bad,  they  do  not  allow  themselves  to  condemn  him  in 
too  absolute  and  unqualified  a  manner. 

"  If  we  were  to  know  him  better,"  say  they  to  themselves,  "we 
should  find  that  he  had  some  good  qualities.". 


QUARRELING.  31 


Franklin's  faults.  His  desire  to  go  to  sea.  Anxiety  of  his  parents. 


Foolish  people  are  not  so  considerate.  They  condemn  alto- 
gether, or  they  commend  altogether,  forming  their  judgment  from 
the  first  indications  they  see. 

What  we  have  said  thus  far  about  Franklin  has  been  all  in  his 
favor  ;  but  he  had,  at  this  time  of  his  life,  some  very  serious  faults, 
which  he  was  afterward  fully  aware  of,  and  greatly  lamented. 

He  was  somewhat  vain  and  self-willed,  and  before  he  went  to 
his  brother's  printing-office  he  made  his  father  some  unnecessary 
trouble  by  his  insubmissive  behavior.  He  had  a  great  desire  to 
go  to  sea.  A  great  many  boys  of  his  age  who  live  in  sea-ports, 
and  see  the  vessels  going  out  and  coming  in,  are  inspired  with 
that  desire.  They  find  the  confinement  of  school  and  the  restraints 
of  home  very  irksome,  and  they  wish  to  go  to  sea,  where  they 
imagine  they  shall  behold  a  thousand  new  and  strange  things, 
and  enjoy  great  liberty,  and  that  for  duty,  there  will  only  be  such 
things  as  climbing  up  the  rigging  now  and  then — and  climbing  is, 
of  all  things,  exactly  what  they  like  best  to  do.  At  home  they  are 
very  often  not  allowed  to  climb. 

Although  Franklin  made  some  resistance  to  the  plans  of  life 
which  his  father  formed  for  him,  and  gave  both  his  father  and 
mother  a  great  deal  of  anxiety  and  trouble  by  persisting  a  long 
time  in  his  desire  to  go  to  sea — so  much  so,  that  at  one  period 
they  were  much  afraid  that  he  intended  to  run  away,  and  felt  it 
necessary  to  watch  very  vigilantly  to  prevent  him — still,  in  the 
end,  he  concluded  to  yield  and  to  go  to  the  printing-office  ;  and 
here,  for  a  time,  he  became  so  much  interested  in  his  books  and 
in  his  writing,  and  in  the  paper  which  his  brother  published,  that 


32  QUARRELING. 


Franklin  becomes  somewhat  self-conceited  and  vain. 


he  was  pretty  well  contented.  He,  however,  was  still  somewhat 
vain  and  self-willed,  and  his  success  in  writing  articles  for  the 
paper,  and  in  other  such  things,  made  him  more  so.  At  one  time 
he  wrote  some  little  ballads  and  songs,  and  other  similar  pieces 
of  poetry,  and  they  were  so  well  written  that  his  brother  had 
them  printed  on  small  sheets,  and  then  sent  Benjamin  out  to  sell 
them.  They  sold  extremely  well,  chiefly,  perhaps,  because  they 
related  to  events  that  had  recently  taken  place,  and  in  which  all 
the  people  were  interested.  The  success  of  these  attempts,  how- 
ever, made  Benjamin  more  vain  and  self-important  than  he  was 
before. 

In  fact,  all  boys  that  are  possessed  of  good  natural  abilities  are 
almost  always,  at  some  period  of  their  youth,  a  little  self-conceited 
and  vain.  They  find  their  powers  of  mind  becoming  stronger  and 
stronger  as  they  grow  older,  and  their  knowledge  extending,  and 
so,  comparing  themselves  as  they  are  now  with  what  they  were  a 
few  years  ago,  they  see  a  great  improvement ;  and  they  fancy  that 
there  is  something  quite  extraordinary  in  their  attainments  and  in 
their  capacity.  In  such  cases  they  lose  their  interest  in  acquiring 
more  knowledge,  and  are  chiefly  pleased  with  opportunities  of 
showing  off  what  they  have  already  acquired.  They  evince 
sometimes  great  zeal  and  ardor  in  certain  studies  at  school,  but 
it  is  almost  always  in  such  studies  as  they  can  make  the  most 
display  in,  not  those  in  which  they  have  most  to  learn.  They 
like  to  do  the  things  which  they  think  they  can  already  do  well, 
not  to  learn  new  things,  and  they  become  very  impatient  of  all 
direction  and  control.  In  fact,  they  often  manifest  a  degree  of  self- 
importance  and  self-conceit  that  is  quite  ridiculous. 


QUARRELING. 


33 


Dreadful  quarrels  between  Franklin  and  his  brother. 


If  Mr.  James  Franklin — for  that  was  the  name  of  the  printer, 
Benjamin's  brother — had  been  a  man  of  good  temper  and  gentle 
manners,  perhaps  things  would  have  gone  on  quietly,  notwith- 
standing Benjamin's  faults  and  errors,  until  he  should  have  got 
cured  of  them.  But  Mr.  James  was  a  violent  man  himself,  and 
instead  of  taking  a  course  with  his  brother  calculated  to  win  him 
back  to  his  duty,  he  used  to  scold  and  upbraid  him  in  the  most 
harsh  and  violent  manner,  and  sometimes,  when  Benjamin  retorted, 


they  would  have  very  terrible  quarrels  in  the  printing-office, 
these  quarrels  both  the  brothers  were  very  much  to  blame. 
11  C 


In 


34  CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP. 

Some  account  of  the  apprenticeship  system.  Apprentice  boys  useless  for  a  time. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP. 

The  contention  between  Franklin  and  his  brother  led,  finally, 
to  a  serious  difficulty,  which  resulted  at  length  in  Benjamin's  run- 
ning away.  As  is  usual  in  cases  of  this  character,  both  parties 
were  greatly  to  blame. 

In  order  that  you  may  understand  this  case  fully,  I  must  begin 
by  explaining  something  about  apprentices  and  journeymen. 

When  a  boy  enters  as  an  apprentice  with  a  mechanic  to  learn 
a  trade,  his  father  comes  under  an  obligation  for  him  that  he  shall 
remain  with  his  master  a  certain  number  of  years — usually  until 
he  is  twenty-one  years  old.  This  is  perfectly  fair.  In  fact,  the 
apprenticeship  would  not  be  fair  without  such  an  agreement, 
because,  when  a  boy  goes  first  into  the  shop,  the  master  has  to 
pay  all  the  expense  of  his  board  and  clothing,  and  to  spend  some 
time  in  teaching  him  the  trade,  withqut  getting  any  benefit  from 
him  at  all,  or  at  least  very  little  ;  for  the  boy,  at  the  beginning, 
knows,  of  course,  nothing  about  the  business  that  he  is  learning, 
and  so  he  can  not  do  any  thing  to  advantage.  Perhaps  he  even 
does  mischief,  by  injuring  the  tools,  or  spoiling  the  materials  that 
he  is  working  upon.  A  careless  boy,  for  instance,  in  a  printing- 
office,  by  breaking  down  a  form,  and  spilling  the  types  all  together 
on  the  floor,  might  do  more  mischief  in  one  minute  than  he  could 
repair  in  a  week. 

Thus  boys,  at  the  beginning,  are  of  very  little  service  to  the 


CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP.  35 

The  indenture.  Edict  against  Mr.  Franklin's  newspaper. 

mechanic  who  takes  them  as  his  apprentices.  He  takes  them  on 
the  faith  of  their  promise  that,  after  they  have  learned  the  trade, 
so  that  they  can  be  of  some  use  to  him  in  his  shop  or  office,  they 
will  remain  and  work  with  him  till  he  is  repaid.  The  father  of 
the  boy  accordingly  enters  into  an  agreement  for  him  that  he  will 
remain,  and  an  honest  and  true-hearted  boy  will  fulfill  such  an 
engagement  as  faithfully  and  as  willingly  as  if  he  had  made  it 
himself. 

The  agreement  which  is  made  between  the  father  of  a  boy  and 
the  master  into  whose  shop  he  goes  to  learn  his  trade  is  written 
upon  a  paper,  and  is  called  the  indenture.  A  boy  thus  bound  is 
called  an  apprentice,  and  sometimes  an  indented  apprentice.  After 
his  time  is  out,  if  he  continues  to  work  for  his  master,  he  receives 
pay,  and  is  called  a  journeyman.  The  indentures  made  in  the 
case  of  Benjamin  Franklin  were  a  little  more  favorable  than  is 
usual  in  such  cases,  for  it  was  agreed  in  them  that  he  was  to  have 
pay  as  a  journeyman  for  the  last  year  that  he  should  stay — that 
is,  the  year  before  he  should  be  twenty-one. 

Things  went  on  tolerably  well  under  these  indentures  until 
Franklin  was  about  seventeen  years  of  age.  At  that  time,  Mr. 
James  Franklin  inserted  in  his  newspaper  an  article  against  the 
government.  This  offended  the  government,  and  Mr.  Franklin 
was  put  in  prison  for  it ;  and  before  they  released  him  again,  they 
made  an  edict  that  "  Mr.  James  Franklin  should  no  longer  publish 
the  New  England  Courant." 

The  New  England  Courant  was  the  name  of  the  newspaper. 

Mr.  Franklin  was,  of  course,  very  glad  to  get  out  of  prison.  He 
was  still,  however,  in  trouble  on  account  of  this  edict.     His  paper 


36  CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP. 


Mr.  Franklin's  cunning  scheme  for  evading  the  edict. 


was  profitable,  and  he  was  very  unwilling  to  give  it  up.  At  first  he 
thought  that  he  would  change  the  name  of  the  paper,  and  then  go 
on  printing  it  as  before.  Then,  if  the  officers  of  government  should 
call  him  to  account  for  disobeying  their  edict,  he  could  say  that  he 
was  not  printing  the  New  England  Courant,  but  another  paper. 
But  then  such  a  change  of  the  name  might  make  him  a  great  deal 
of  difficulty,  he  thought,  with  his  subscribers  ;  for,  suppose  he  were 
to  change  the  name  from  the  New  England  Courant  to  the  New 
England  Sentinel,  for  example,  and  then,  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
were  to  send  in  bills  for  the  New  England  Courant,  they  might 
say  that  they  had  not  received  the  New  England  Courant,  but  the 
New  England  Sentinel ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  if  he  were  to  send 
in  bills  for  the  Sentinel,  then  they  might  say  that  they  did  not  sub- 
scribe for  the  Sentinel,  but  only  for  the  Courant,  and  that  they 
were  not  bound  to  pay  for  any  other.  So  there  were  great  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  changing  the  name. 

Presently  Mr.  Franklin  thought  of  another  plan,  which  was,  to 
continue  the  paper  under  the  same  name,  but  to  pretend  to  sell  it 
to  Benjamin,  and  thus  let  him  be  nominally  the  proprietor  and 
printer  of  it ;  for  the  edict  was,  not  that  the  paper  should  not  be 
printed,  but  that  Mr.  James  Franklin  should  not  print  it.  This 
plan  was  finally  agreed  upon.  Benjamin  himself  had,  of  course, 
no  objection  to  it,  for  it  brought  his  name  forward  more  promi- 
nently before  the  public,  and  made  him  appear  like  quite  a  man. 
So  the  plan  was  decided  upon.  Mr.  James  Franklin's  name  was 
left  off  from  the  paper,  and  Benjamin  Franklin's  put  on,  and  very 
proud  was  Benjamin  to  see  it  there. 

There  was  one  trouble  about  this  arrangement,  or,  rather,  one 


CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP.  37 

Mr.  Franklin  gives  Benjamin  a  release.  Endorsing. 

danger  ;  for,  as  long  as  Benjamin  was  James's  indented  apprentice, 
the  government  might  say,  if  they  undertook  to  inquire  into  the 
reason  wdiy  the  publishing  of  the  newspaper  was  not  stopped, 
that  Benjamin  was  only  a  boy — an  apprentice  merely,  of  James's 
— and  that,  consequently,  the  idea  that  he  could  be  really  the 
printer  and  proprietor  of  the  paper  wTas  only  a  pretense,  and  was 
perfectly  absurd.  In  order  to  be  prepared  to  meet  that  difficulty, 
Mr.  James  proposed  to  cancel  the  indentures  by  which  Benjamin 
was  bound  to  him. 

"  I  will  write  on  the  back  of  the  paper,"  said  he  to  Benjamin, 
"that  I  release  you  from  being  my  apprentice,  and  give  you  your 
liberty  from  this  time.  Then  you  can  show  them  that  release,  in 
case  they  should  say  that  you  are  an  apprentice  still.  In  the  mean 
time,  we  will  go  on  just  as  if  the  indentures  were  not  altered.  You 
shall  still  be  my  apprentice  in  reality,  just  as  much  as  before.  I 
trust  to  your  honor  to  keep  the  agreement  the  same,  notwithstand- 
ing this  release,  which  is  only  for  form's  sake." 

Benjamin  agreed  to  this,  and  so  Mr.  James  took  both  indentures, 
and  endorsed  the  papers*  as  follows  :  "  I  hereby  release  the  within- 
named  Benjamin  Franklin  from  all  obligations  arising  from  these 
indentures,  and  declare  him  to  be  his  own  master  from  and  after 
this  date" — or  words  to  that  effect. 

Thus  all  was  arranged,  and  they  went  on  publishing  the  paper 

*  To  endorse  a  paper  is  to  write  something  on  the  back  of  it.  Dorsum  is  an 
ancient  -word  meaning  back.  The  fin  on  the  back  of  a  fish  is  called  a  dorsal  fin. 
There  are  a  great  many  different  ways  of  endorsing  papers.  One  of  the  most 
common  ways  is  for  a  man  to  write  his  name  on  the  back  of  a  note,  and  this  puts 
him  under  obligation  to  pay  the  note  in  case  the  man  who  signed  it  can  not  or 
will  not  do  it.     In  such  case  a  man  is  said  to  endorse  for  another. 


38  CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP. 

Objections  to  this  scheme.  Some  advice  for  both  boys  and  men. 

at  the  office,  with  the  name  of  Benjamin  Franklin  inserted  con- 
spicuously under  the  title  of  it  as  the  printer  and  proprietor. 

Now  this  plan,  ingenious  as  it  undoubtedly  was,  and  at  the  out- 
set promising-,  was  still  a  very  dangerous  one  for  Mr.  James  Frank- 
lin to  adopt.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  always  unwise  and  unsafe  to 
attempt  to  accomplish  any  thing  by  trickery  and  false  pretenses. 
I  advise  all  the  readers  of  this  book  to  resolve  that,  both  now  while 
they  are  boys,  and  hereafter  when  they  come  to  be  men,  they  will 
be  open,  honest,  and  direct  in  all  their  plans  and  undertakings,  and 
not  attempt  to  do  any  thing  by  means  of  artifices,  tricks,  and  eva- 
sions, however  ingenious  and  plausible  such  contrivances  may 
sometimes  seem.  Then,  besides,  Mr.  Franklin,  by  canceling  the 
indentures,  put  himself  wholly  in  Benjamin's  power,  having  released 
him  from  ail  legal  obligation  to  fulfill  his  agreement.  Now  you 
will  find,  when  you  come  to  be  men,  and  have  dealings  with  men, 
that  if  you  release  them  from  all  legal  obligation  to  do  as  they 
agree,  and  trust  entirely  to  their  honor,  they  will  indeed  very 
probably  go  on  faithfully  fulfilling  their  agreements  so  long  as  no 
unexpected  occurrence  or  difference  of  opinion  between  you  and 
them  takes  place.  But,  so  soon  as  there  is  any  such  disagree- 
ment, you  are  immediately  involved  in  difficulty,  for  they  will 
say  that  in  something  or  other  you  have  not  done  as  you  ought 
to  do,  and  so  they  will  refuse  to  keep  their  covenant.  They  will 
pretend  to  be  released  from  it  by  some  fault,  real  or  imaginary,  in 
you.  In  such  cases  you  have  no  redress,  for  you  have  given  up 
all  legal  hold  upon  them,  and,  consequently,  if  they  will  not  volun- 
tarily keep  faith  with  you,  you  have  no  redress. 

Benjamin  Franklin  and  his  brother  got  into  difficulty  in  precisely 


CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP.  39 


Quarrel  between  Benjamin  and  his  brother.  They  separate. 

this  way.  Some  months  after  the  canceling  of  the  indentures, 
they  had  one  of  their  old  quarrels  in  the  office,  and  Benjamin, 
being  angry,  said  "he  would  not  stay  in  the  office  any  longer  to 
be  so  abused."  His  brother  retorted  that  "he  did  not  abuse  him, 
and  did  not  wish  to  abuse  him  ;  he  only  wished  him  to  do  his 
duty,  as  he  had  agreed."  Benjamin  said  that  "the  indentures 
were  canceled,  and,  though  he  would  not  have  taken  advantage 
of  that  to  go  away  if  his  brother  had  treated  him  as  an  apprentice 
ought  to  be  treated,  still,  as  it  was,  he  was  determined  not  to  stay 
any  longer.  He  would  go  to  some  of  the  other  printing-offices  in 
Boston,"  he  said,  "  and  work  as  a  journeyman  in  them." 

Mr.  James  Franklin  determined  to  prevent  this  ;  so  he  went 
around  to  all  the  other  offices,  and  made  to  the  master  of  each  a 
statement  of  the  difficulty  between  him  and  Benjamin,  and  asked 
them  not  to  employ  him.  They  said  that  they  would  not.  They 
thought  it  very  dishonorable  in  a  young  man  to  take  advantage 
of  such  a  canceling  of  his  indentures  to  break  his  engagement, 
and  they  determined  not  to  encourage  such  gross  injustice.  Ben- 
jamin, when  he  found  that  he  was  refused  wherever  he  made  ap- 
plication, and  that  he  was  reproached,  too,  with  his  dishonorable 
conduct  in  going  away  from  his  brother,  was  very  much  perplexed. 
He  did  not  know  what  to  do. 

He  thought,  very  naturally,  of  going  to  some  other  place.  The 
nearest  place  where  there  was  any  printing  done  was  New  York. 
He  concluded  that  he  would  like  to  go  there,  if  he  could  get  there. 
The  journey  from  Boston  to  New  York  is  now  very  easily  made. 
You  can  go  in  a  few  hours.  In  fact,  you  can  leave  Boston  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  get  to  New  York  before  half  the  t 


40 


CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP. 


Collins  helps  Benjamin  to  form  a  plan  for  running  away. 


people  of  the  city  have  gone  to  bed.  In  Franklin's  time,  however, 
it  was  more  like  what  a  journey  to  California  is  now.  The  route 
by  land  was  through  a  wild  and  unsettled  country,  and  there  were 
no  public  conveyances.  Besides,  to  set  off  on  such  a  journey 
wrould  require  considerable  preparation  ;  and  Franklin  had  reason 
to  believe  that  his  father,  if  he  knew  of  his  having  such  a  plan, 
would  take  steps  to  prevent  his  executing  it ;  so  he  did  not  know 
what  to  do. 

While  he  was  in  this  per- 
plexity, one  of  his  companions, 
a  very  intelligent  and  active, 
but  rather  a  bad  boy,  proposed 
a  plan  to  him  for  getting  away. 
There  was  a  vessel  in  the  har- 
bor going  to  New  York  soon, 
and  Collins  told  Franklin  that 
he  thought  he  could  get  the 
captain  to  take  him  secretly, 
by  making  up  a  false  story  to 
deceive  him. 
"  I  will  tell  him,"  said  he,  "that  the  reason  why  you  wish  to 
go  away  is,  that  your  parents  insist  on  your  marrying  a  girl  that 
you  do  not  wish  to  marry,  and  that  they  will  prevent  your  going 
if  they  find  it  out.  Then  he  will  let  you  come  secretly,  and  hide 
in  his  vessel,  just  before  he  is  ready  to  sail." 

This  plan  wras  adopted.  Franklin  sold  some  of  his  books  to 
raise  money,  and  made  all  the  other  necessary  preparations  in  the 
most  secret  and  stealthy  manner,  so  that  nobody  suspected  his 


CAUGHT    IN    HIS    OWN    TRAP.  41 

He  goes  away  in  a  vessel.  Grief  of  his  parents. 

design.  He  got  on  board  the  vessel,  and  sailed  away.  His  father 
and  mother  knew  nothing  about  it  until  he  was  gone,  and  then 
they  wTere  almost  broken-hearted.  He  was  their  youngest  son, 
and  they  loved  him  dearly.  He  had  given  them  before  a  great 
Ideal  of  anxiety  and  trouble,  and  now,  finding  that  he  had  broken 
his  engagements,  and  disgraced  himself  and  his  family  by  running 
away  from  home,  their  hearts  were  filled  with  grief.  Franklin 
himself  afterward  admitted  that  he  acted  very  wrong  in  these 
transactions. 

Although  Franklin  ultimately  succeeded  very  well  in  his  plans, 
and  became  very  prosperous,  his  success  was  probably  retarded 
and  diminished  by  his  thus  running  away  from  home,  and  not 
promoted  by  it.  If  he  had  remained  with  his  brother,  and  honor- 
ably fulfilled  his  obligations  as  apprentice,  there  is  every  reason 
to  suppose  that  he  would  have  risen  to  eminence  in  Boston  even 
more  rapidly  than  he  did  in  Philadelphia,  and  he  would  in  that 
case  have  spared  himself  the  many  hardships,  privations,  and  suf- 
ferings which  he  endured,  and  particularly  the  remorse  which  sub- 
sequently stung  him  so  severely,  when  he  thought  of  his  undutiful 
conduct  toward  his  father  and  mother. 

Franklin's  father  and  mother  were  much  to  be  pitied  in  thus 
losing  their  beloved  son,  but  Mr.  James  Franklin  deserved  no  sym- 
pathy in  losing  his  apprentice,  for  he  got  caught  in  his  own  trap. 


42 


HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING. 


Franklin  traversing  the  State  of  New  Jersey. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING. 

Here  is  a  picture  of  Franklin  traveling  on  foot,  and  hurrying 
along  to  escape  from  the  rain.     He  has  a  stick  and  a  bundle.     He 

is  carrying  his  bundle  over  his  shoul- 
der by  means  of  his  stick.  He  is 
tired  of  carrying  it  in  his  hand.  It 
has  been  raining.  The  roads  are 
wet  and  muddy,  and  it  is  hard  to 
walk  on  them.  But  more  rain  is 
coming,  and  so  he  must  hurry  on. 

Franklin  was  in  the  State  of  New 
Jersey  at  this  time.  If  you  look 
upon  the  map,  you  will  see  that  the 
State  of  New  Jersey  is  beyond  New 
York,  reckoning  from  Boston.  You 
will  also  see  that,  in  order  to  get 
into  New  Jersey  from  New  York,  it 
is  necessary  to  cross  the  mouth  of  the  Hudson  River,  which  is 
there  very  wide.  It  is  necessary  to  cross  this  river,  because  New 
Jersey  is  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  while  New  York  is  on  the 
north  side  of  it. 

How  came  Franklin  to  be  beyond  New  York,  on  the  farther  side 
of  the  Hudson  River,  and  to  be  traveling  thus  in  a  storm  in  New 
Jersey  ? 


HARDSHIP  AND  SUFFERING.  43 


How  Franklin  came  to  be  going  to  Philadelphia. 


He  was  going  to  Philadelphia. 

And  how  came  he  to  be  going  to  Philadelphia  ? 

This  was  it : 

When  he  got  to  New  York,  he  could  not  find  any  employment 
in  the  printing-offices  there.  New  York  was  then  a  small  town — 
smaller  than  Philadelphia — and  there  were  not  many  printing- 
offices  there.  In  fact,  there  was  not  much  printing  to  be  done  in 
that  city.  The  printers  had  workmen  enough  ;  but  one  of  them, 
an  old  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Bradford,  told  Franklin  that  he 
had  a  son  in  Philadelphia  who  was  a  printer,  and  who  had  just 
lost  his  foreman,  and  he  recommended  to  Franklin  to  go  there. 

Franklin  immediately  determined  that  he  would  follow  this  ad- 
vice. 

If,  now,  you  look  at  the  map  of  the  United  States,  you  will  find 
that  to  go  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia  by  sea  requires  quite  a 
long  voyage.  You  have  to  sail  down  the  harbor  of  New  York,  be- 
tween Staten  Island  and  Long  Island,  till  you  get  to  the  sea,  then 
along  the  Jersey  shore,  in  a  southerly  direction,  till  you  get  to  the 
mouth  of  Delaware  Bay,  then  west,  up  Delaware  Bay  nearly  fifty 
miles,  to  the  mouth  of  Delaware  River,  then  up  the  Delaware 
River  thirty  or  forty  miles  to  Philadelphia.  Thus  it  is  a  long  way 
round. 

But  by  land  the  distance  is  not  by  any  means  so  great.  First 
you  have  to  cross  the  mouth  of  the  Hudson  River,  which  is  here 
about  two  miles  wide.  Then  you  travel  by  land  across  the  State 
of  New  Jersey  till  you  come  to  the  Delaware  River  above  Phila- 
delphia. The  place  where  you  come  to  the  river  is  Burlington. 
From  Burlington  you  go  down  the  river  direct  to  Philadelphia. 


44  HARDSHIP  AND  SUFFERING. 

Modes  of  conveyance  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia.  Amboy. 

There  are  now  two  good  rail-roads  across  the  State  of  New  Jer- 
sey from  New  York  to  Philadelphia.  In  Franklin's  day  there  was 
not  even  a  stage-coach. 

There  are  now,  moreover,  three  good  steam  ferries  across  the 
North  River  from  New  York  to  the  Jersey  shore.  In  Franklin's 
day  there  was  no  ferry.  The  only  way  to  go  across  was  by  a 
sail-boat  or  a  row-boat. 

Franklin  concluded  to  put  his  trunk  on  board  a  vessel,  and  send 
it  round  by  water  to  Philadelphia,  while  he  himself  went  across 
the  country  by  land.  He  put  all  his  clothes  into  the  trunk,  except 
a  very  few,  which  he  thought  he  might  require  by  the  way. 
These  he  tied  up  in  a  bundle. 

Then,  finding  a  small  vessel  going  across  from  New  York  to 
Amboy,  on  the  Jersey  shore,  he  took  passage  in  it,  and  set  sail. 

There  were  a  number  of  other  passengers  going  in  this  vessel, 
although  it  was  very  small.  In  fact,  it  was  rather  a  sail-boat  than 
a  vessel — a  very  safe  and  sufficient  craft,  no  doubt,  for  sheltered 
seas  and  fair  weather,  but  altogether  unfit  to  encounter  gales  of 
wind  and  heavy  seas.  There  was  apparently  not  much  danger, 
for  the  voyage  to  Amboy  was  to  be  made  inside  the  land  all  the  way. 

Amboy  is  not  directly  across  the  North  River  from  New  York, 
but  is  further  to  the  east,  and  at  the  head  of  an  arm  of  the  sea, 
which  communicates  with  the  North  River  on  the  northern  side 
of  Staten  Island,  so  that  the  passage  to  it  would  require  several 
hours,  even  if  the  wind  and  weather  had  proved  favorable.  The 
wind  and  weather  were,  however,  not  favorable.  The  prospect 
was  fair  when  they  sailed,  but,  not  long  after  they  left  New  York, 
there   came  up   a   squall  which  blew  them  out  of  their  course. 


HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING. 


45 


The  vessel  in  the  squall.  The  hoom.  The  main-sheet. 

Here  you  see  a  picture  of  the  vessel  just  before  she  was  struck  by 


the  squall.  The  waves  are  beginning  to  run  high,  and  dark, 
stormy-looking  clouds  are  seen  hovering  over  the  horizon.  The 
squall  ended  in  a  gale,  which  drove  the  vessel  entirely  out  of  her 
course,  and  carried  her  down  the  harbor.  She  pitched  and  tossed 
about  very  violently,  and  careened  to  the  wind.  At  one  time,  in 
the  confusion,  one  of  the  passengers,  a  German,  was  knocked 
overboard  by  the  boom.  The  boom  is  the  round  beam  of  wood 
which  forms  the  lower  edge  of  the  sail.  You  can  see  the  boom 
in  the  picture.  The  boom  must  be  made  strong  and  heavy,  so  as 
to  keep  the  edge  of  the  sail  stretched  straight,  and  to  resist  the 
force  of  the  wind.  It  is  usually  secured  in  its  place,  when  the  boat 
or  vessel  is  sailing  along  quietly,  by  means  of  a  double  rope  and 


46  HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING. 

Danger  from  the  boom.  The  German  falls  overboard. 

pulley.  This  rope  is  called  the  sheet.  You  can  see  the  sheet  of 
this  sail  in  the  picture.  It  is  fastened  to  the  boom,  near  the  middle 
of  it,  and  the  ends  are  carried  to  the  stern  of  the  boat,  near  where 
the  helmsman  sits.  The  sheet  of  the  main-sail  of  a  boat  or  vessel 
is  called  the  main-sheet. 

Some  persons,  when  they  hear  the  sheet  spoken  of,  in  nautical 
language,  imagine  that  it  must  mean  the  sail  itself,  or  the  cloth 
that  the  sail  is  made  of.  But  it  does  not.  It  means  the  ropes  by 
which  the  lower  edge  of  the  sail  is  controlled,  and  drawn  in  or  out, 
according  to  the  state  of  the  wind.  There  are  a  great  many  com- 
mands that  you  hear  on  board  a  vessel  or  a  sail-boat,  relating  to 
the  sheet,  such  as,  "  Let  go  the  main-sheet  /"  "  Haul  in  the  main- 
sheet  /"  and  "Ease  away  the  main-sheet!'''' 

The  sheet  generally  confines  the  boom  and  keeps  it  steady,  but 
sometimes,  in  a  gale  of  wind  or  in  a  sudden  squall,  the  sail  above, 
and  consequently  the  boom  below,  thrash  about  dreadfully,  and  those 
who  are  near  it  have  to  dodge  down  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat 
to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  it,  or  else  they  get  knocked  overboard. 
It  was  in  this  way  the  German  got  knocked  overboard  in  this 
voyage.  Very  fortunately  for  him,  however,  Franklin  happened 
to  be  very  near  him  at  the  time,  and,  leaning  over  the  gunwale,  he 
seized  the  poor  man  by  the  hair  of  his  head,  which  was  very  thick 
and  shaggy,  and  so  pulled  him  up  toward  the  boat  again,  and  then, 
by  the  help  of  some  of  the  seamen  who  rushed  to  his  aid,  and  in 
some  measure  through  the  efforts  of  the  drowning  man  himself,  who 
came  up  the  side  clinging  convulsively  to  every  thing  that  he 
could  get  hold  of,  and  climbing  at  intervals  with  desperate  strug- 
gles, they  brought  him  on  board. 


HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING.  47 


Danger  from  the  boom.  Franklin  in  great  peril.  The  breakers. 

The  man  was  intoxicated  when  the  accident  happened.  This 
was  the  reason,  probably,  that  he  failed  to  get  out  of  the  way  of 
the  boom.  The  fright,  however,  and  the  cold  bath  sobered  him 
very  suddenly. 

Always  look  out  well  for  the  boom  when  you  go  sailing  in  a 
boat.  It  is  a  mischievous  thing.  Even  when  it  can  not  hope  to 
knock  the  man  himself  overboard,  it  seems  sometimes  to  take  great 
delight  in  taking  his  hat  off. 

But  to  return  to  our  story.  The  boat  that  Franklin  was  in  was 
driven  entirely  out  of  her  course,  and  was  finally  carried  across  the 
harbor  of  New  York,  and  driven  toward  the  shore  of  Long  Island, 
which  shore  lay  in  a  direction  exactly  opposite  to  where  they 
wished  to  go.  The  sails,  too,  were  torn  to  pieces  by  the  wind. 
When  the  boat  approached  the  shore,  there  was  a  tremendous 
surf  rolling  in  upon  the  beach,  and  the  men  were  afraid  that,  if 
they  attempted  to  land,  they  would  be  overwhelmed.  So,  before 
their  boat  got  near  enough  to  be  in  the  breakers,  they  cast  anchor. 
As  soon  as  the  anchor  took  hold  of  the  sand  on  the  bottom,  it 
brought  the  boat  up,  as  they  say,  though  she  swung  round  toward 
the  shore  as  near  as  the  length  of  the  cable  which  they  had  payed 
out  would  allow.*  Then  the  men  saw  that  between  them  and  the 
shore  there  was  a  broad  belt  of  roaring  surges,  tossing  tumultu- 
ously,  and  rolling  in  with  terrific  fury  upon  the  beach,  and  ready 
to  dash  the  boat  to  pieces,  and  devour  all  on  board,  if  the  anchor 
or  the  cable  should  give  way. 

Some  men  came  down  to  the  shore,  from  the  houses  on  the  land, 
to  look  at  them.  The  men  in  the  boat  made  speaking-trumpets 
*  To  pay  out  is  the  phrase  seamen  use  for  let  out. 


48 


HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING. 


The  men  call  for  help. 


Wreckers. 


of  their  hands,  and  shouted  out  as  loud  as  they  could  vociferate, 
calling  for  help.  The  men  on  the  shore  called  out  something-  to 
them,  in  the  same  way,  in  reply.  Neither  party,  however,  could 
hear  a  word  that  was  spoken  by  the  other. 

The  men  in  the  vessel,  in  looking  about  for  some  means  of  de- 
liverance, saw  several  small  boats  on  the  shore,  drawn  up  high  on 
the  sand,  where  they  would  be  out  of  the  wTay  of  the  waves. 
They  were  a  kind  of  boats  called  surf-boats.  They  are  made  ex- 
pressly to  go  through  the  surf  in.  The  men  who  live  on  such 
shores  have  occasion  to  go  out  and  to  come  in  very  often,  in  going 
a  fishing  or  returning  home,  and  they  acquire  great  dexterity  in 
going  through  the  surf.  They  can  usually  go  through  it  quite 
safely,  unless  it  is  too  high. 

Here  is  a  picture  of 

a  surf-boat,  with  some 

^  .  men  going  through  the 

-  .        surf  in  it,  on  a  rocky 

and  dangerous  shore. 

"I  wish,"  said  one  of 
the  seamen  on  board  of 
the  vessel,  "  that  they 
would  come  off  in  one 
of  those  boats,  and  take 
us  to  the  land." 

"  Yes,"  said  another, 
"  if  we  could  only  make 
them  hear." 


So  they  called  out  again,  as  loud  as  they  could  possibly  call,  and 


HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING.  49 


The  men  make  signs.  Wet  and  uncomfortable  night  on  board. 

then  listened  for  a  reply.  The  men  on  the  beach  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  answer,  but  the  seamen  could  not  hear  a  word  that  they 
said. 

"  Let  us  make  signs,"  said  one  of  the  seamen. 

So,  standing  up  on  the  highest  point  of  the  vessel  that  he  could 
get  to,  he  pointed  to  the  small  boats,  and  beckoned,  and  made  oth- 
er gesticulations,  to  denote  that  he  washed  the  men  to  come  off  in 
the  small  boats  and  take  them  ashore.  This  pantomime,  however, 
was  as  unavailing  as  the  words  had  been.  The  men  did  not  move 
towTard  the  small  boats,  but,  after  standing  a  little  longer  on  the 
beach,  talking  with  each  other,  they  went  away,  and  were  seen  no 
more. 

So  the  people  on  board  the  vessel  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait 
where  they  were  until  the  wind  should  go  down.  In  the  mean 
time,  night  wras  coming  on,  and  they  began  to  be  cold  and  uncom- 
fortable. There  was  no  place  to  go  to  for  sleep,  or  even  for  shel- 
ter, except  a  sort  of  cuddy  which  was  formed  in  the  bows  of  the 
boat,  under  a  small  deck  which  was  made  there,  called  the  fore- 
castle. This  place  was  hardly  large  enough  to  hold  them  all,  but 
still  they  all  crowded  into  it.  The  German  was  there  already,  ly- 
ing in  his  wet  clothes,  and,  besides  this,  the  waves  dashed  over  the 
bows  of  the  vessel,  and  the  water  leaked  down  through  upon  them 
all  night,  making  them  very  wet  and  thoroughly  wretched. 

Morning  came  at  last,  however,  and  when  the  men  issued  forth 
from  their  wretched  cabin,  they  were  rejoiced  to  find  that  the 
storm  was  so  far  abated  that  they  could  proceed  on  their  voyage. 
So  they  mended  up  their  sails,  hoisted  the  anchor,  and  set  forth 
again.  In  the  course  of  the  day  thev  reached  Ambov  safely. 
11  D 


50  HARDSHIP    AND    SUFFERING. 

Franklin  gets  sick.  His  remedy.  Journey  across  New  Jersey. 

When  they  landed,  they  had  been  thirty  hours  in  their  vessel  with- 
out any  thing-  to  eat  or  drink,  except  that  there  was  a  bottle  of 
wretched  rum  on  board — a  drink  which  Franklin  abhorred.  There 
is  a  very  good  story  to  tell  about  Franklin's  dislike  of  all  such 
drinks  as  rum,  which  will  come  by-and-by. 

Franklin  was  made  quite  sick  by  the  hardship  and  exposure 
which  he  had  suffered,  and  he  went  to  bed  that  night  in  a  high 
fever.  He  took  no  remedy,  however,  except  to  drink  very  copious 
draughts  of  cold  water,  which  he  had  heard  was  good  in  such 
cases.  In  the  morning  he  was  much  better,  and  so  he  set  out  to 
continue  his  journey  on  foot  across  the  State  of  New  Jersey.  The 
distance  across  to  the  Delaware  River,  at  Burlington,  was  about 
fifty  miles ;  too  far,  of  course,  for  him  to  go  in  one  day,  though  now 
we  go  by  the  rail-road  in  less  than  two  hours.  Franklin,  however, 
set  out  with  pretty  good  courage ;  but  he  had  not  gone  far  before 
the  storm  came  on  again,  and  he  was  compelled  to  hasten  on  very 
vigorously  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the  rain,  as  shown  in  the  en- 
graving at  the  commencement  of  this  chapter.  At  last  he  came 
to  an  inn,  and  was  obliged  to  stop  for  the  night.  It  was  a  poDr, 
miserable  place,  and  Franklin  being  wet,  muddy,  and  wretched, 
made  such  a  figure,  that  he  found  the  people  were  suspicious  of 
him,  and  looked  upon  him  with  a  sort  of  contempt,  as  they  would 
upon  some  strolling  beggar.  As  the  people  saw  that  he  was  quite 
young,  they  questioned  him,  asking  him  who  he  was,  and  where 
he  was  going ;  and  as  he  could  only  answer  these  questions  in  an 
evasive  manner,  they  suspected  that  he  was  some  unmanageable 
apprentice  running  away  from  his  master — which,  very  unfortu- 
nately, was  pretty  near  the  truth. 


DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER.  51 


He  arrives  at  Burlington.  The  gingerbread  woman.  Boat  gone 

In  a  word,  the  poor  boy  found  himself  in  a  very  forlorn  and 
wrretched  condition.  He  went  to  bed  feeling-  very  unhappy,  and 
wishing  sincerely  that  he  had  never  left  home. 

The  principal  ingredient  in  his  cup  of  bitterness  at  this  time  was, 
undoubtedly,  the  self-reproach  which  he  must  have  endured  to 
think  of  the  anguish  that  his  father  and  mother  were  suffering  in 
being  thus  forsaken  by  their  erring  son. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER. 

Franklin  met  with  various  other  adventures  and  difficulties  on 
his  way  through  New  Jersey,  but  at  length,  to  his  great  joy,  on 
Saturday,  the  third  day  after  he  left  Amboy,  he  reached  the  shores 
of  the  Delaware  River.  The  place  where  he  reached  the  river 
was  Burlington,  then  a  small  village,  but  now  a  very  large  town. 

Franklin  was  very  tired  and  hungry  when  he  reached  Burling- 
ton. He  stopped  in  the  street,  and  bought  some  gingerbread  of  a 
woman  who  kept  gingerbread  and  cakes  to  sell  at  a  stand,  and 
then  he  went  on  down  to  the  water,  to  see  if  he  could  find  a  ves- 
sel going  to  Philadelphia. 

Burlington  is  on  the  Delaware  River,  not  far  from  twenty  miles 
above  Philadelphia.  Franklin  wTas  so  tired  with  the  journey  which 
he  had  already  taken,  that  he  was  extremely  unwilling  to  walk 
this  additional  distance,  and  so  he  went  to  the  bank  of  the  river 
to  see  if  there  was  not  a  boat  going  down.  They  told  him  that 
the  regular  boat  had  just  gone. 


52  DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER. 

No  boat  for  three  days.  Kindness  of  the  poor  to  each  other. 

He  was  very  much  disappointed  and  chagrined  at  this  intelli- 
gence. 

"Dear  me  !"  said  he,  "how  unlucky  !  When  will  there  be  an- 
other boat  ?" 

"  Not  till  next  Tuesday,"  said  the  men  whom  he  was  questioning. 

Franklin  turned  away  in  a  very  sorrowful  state  of  mind,  and 
walked  slowly  and  despondingly  up  into  the  street. 

He  presently  came  to  the  stand  where  the  gingerbread  woman 
was,  and  he  stopped  to  ask  her  what  she  thought  he  had  better 
do.  She  said  that  he  might  come  to  her  house,  and  lodge  there 
until  another  boat  should  go.  This  was  a  generous  offer  for  such 
a  woman  to  make  ;  but  then  Franklin  was  so  young,  and  he  looked 
so  tired  and  so  forlorn,  that  she  took  pity  on  him.  It  is  not  at  all 
impossible  that  she  may  have  had  a  son  herself  who  was  wander- 
ing about  the  wTorld  somewhere,  and  Franklin  may  have  reminded 
her  of  him.  A  mother  who  has  children  far  away,  that  she  knows 
stand  in  need  of  kindness  where  they  are,  takes  great  comfort  in 
showing  kindness  to  any  others  that  she  sees  suffering  near  her. 
Besides,  persons  in  humble  life  are  often  more  kind  to  those  who 
are  in  trouble  and  distress,  and  take  much  greater  interest  in 
endeavoring  to  relieve  them,  than  the  wealthy  and  the  power- 
ful. Prosperity  tends  often  to  make  us  selfish  and  cold-hearted, 
and  the  more  we  have  laid  up,  the  stronger  are  our  desires  to 
save  all  that  we  can  to  add  to  the  store.  Thousands  of  Irish 
servant-girls  in  New  York  send  a  large  part  of  their  earnings  to 
their  parents,  and  brothers  and  sisters,  at  home,  but  the  rich  people 
in  New  York  generally  leave  their  poor  relatives  to  take  care  of 
themselves. 


DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER. 


53 


Franklin  eating  his  dinner. 


He  takes  a  walk  to  the  river. 


Franklin  went  to  the  woman's  house,  and  the  first  thing  that 
she  did  was  to  give  him  a  good  dinner.     Here  he  is  eating  his 


dinner.  The  woman  herself  is  standing  by.  She  is  going  out  to 
buy  a  mug  of  beer.  Franklin  looks  wan  and  weary,  yet  pleased 
now  to  get  something  good  to  eat.  His  stick  and  bundle  are  lying 
on  the  table  by  his  side. 

After  finishing  his  dinner,  Franklin  went  out  to  take  a  walk, 
and,  as  boys  always  do  in  such  cases,  he  at  once  turned  his  steps 
toward  the  banks  of  the  river.  After  walking  about  there  some 
time,  amusing  himself  by  looking  at  the  boats  and  vessels,  and  at 
the  men  climbing  about  the  rigging,  or  hoisting  things  in  and  out, 
he  spied  a  boat  coming  down  the  river.  This  boat  stopped  at  the 
landing  near  where  Franklin  was,  and,  on  inquiring,  he  learned 


54  DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER. 

Passage  down  the  river.  Advantage  of  consulting  maps. 

that  it  wras  going  dowTn  to  Philadelphia.  Franklin  was  overjoyed 
to  hear  this,  so  he  made  a  bargain  with  the  men  on  board  to  let 
him  go  with  them.  He  went  immediately  back  to  the  house  to 
get  his  bundle  and  stick,  and  to  bid  the  kind  gingerbread  woman 
good-by.  Then  he  came  back  to  the  boat,  and  very  soon  they 
set  sail. 

That  is,  they  attempted  to  set  sail ;  but  there  was  no  wind,  and 
the  sails  were  useless.  So  they  concluded  to  row,  They  got  out 
the  oars,  and  as  there  was  quite  a  number  of  persons  in  the  boat, 
they  divided  the  company  into  sets,  with  a  view  of  taking  turns 
in  the  rowing.  The  first  set  then  took  the  oars,  and  the  boat 
began  to  move  slowly  down  the  river. 

If  you  have  not  yet  referred  to  a  map,  to  follow  Franklin's  route 
upon  it,  I  advise  you  by  all  means  to  do  it  now,  before  you  go 
any  further — that  is,  provided  there  is  a  map  that  you  can  have 
access  to  while  you  are  reading  this  story.  It  will  make  the  story 
far  more  interesting  to  you  to  find  Boston,  where  Franklin  start- 
ed from,  and  thence  trace  his  course  round  Cape  Cod,  and 
through  Long  Island  Sound  to  New  York.  You  can  also  see  the 
North  River  flowing  south  of  New  York,  and  find  the  place  where 
Franklin  attempted  to  cross  it  to  go  to  New  Jersey,  and  the  har- 
bor below,  across  which  his  boat  was  driven,  and  the  end  of  Long 
Island,  where  the  party  came  so  near  getting  wrecked,  and  where 
they  spent  that  night  in  so  wet  and  uncomfortable  a  manner.  Then 
you  can  find  Amboy,  and  the  track  across  New  Jersey  from  Amboy 
to  Burlington,  and  then  the  course  of  the  river  from  Burlington  to 
Philadelphia.  Thus  you  can  follow  Franklin,  step  by  step,  the 
whole  of  the  journey.     This  will  not  only  make  the  story  itself 


DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER.  55 


Perplexity.  Philadelphia  seen  at  night  at  the  present  day. 

more  interesting  to  you,  but  will  give  you  correct  geographical 
ideas  of  the  whole  region,  or  renew  and  reimpress  upon  your 
mind  your  knowledge  of  it,  if  you  had  studied  it  before.  The 
reason  why  you  study  geography  and  maps  at  school  is,  that  you 
may  have  some  general  knowledge  of  such  localities,  and  know 
where  to  look  for  the  places  referred  to  when  you  read  such  nar- 
ratives as  this.  All  gentlemen  and  scholars  who  have  libraries 
think  it  very  essential  to  have  atlases  and  maps  in  their  collec- 
tions, and  whenever  they  read  about  places,  or  about  the  routes 
of  travelers,  they  look  them  out,  so  as  to  see  precisely  where  the 
places  that  are  mentioned  are.  Sensible  boys  and  girls  do  the 
same,  using  the  best  maps  they  have  at  command  for  this  purpose. 
But  to  return  to  the  boat.  The  men  rowed,  each  in  his  turn, 
till  about  half  past  eleven  o'clock,  and  then  they  began  to  wonder 
why  they  did  not  come  to  Philadelphia.  They  rowed  on  for  half 
an  hour  longer,  and  then  some  of  them  began  to  think  that  they 
must  have  passed  the  town.  It  was  in  the  night,  though  not  very 
dark,  and  so  they  thought  it  possible  that  they  might  have  gone 
by  the  town  without  seeing  it.  Such  an  idea,  at  the  present  day, 
would  be  quite  absurd,  for  the  river  opposite  the  city  is  lined  for 
miles  with  ships,  and  steamers,  and  barges,  all  displaying  lanterns 
in  the  rigging,  and  the  water  is  covered  with  ferry-boats  going  to 
and  fro,  brilliantly  lighted,  while  the  whole  city,  extending  a  great 
way  up  and  down  the  river,  and  back  into  the  land  farther  than 
you  can  see,  blazes  with  countless  thousands  of  stars,  formed  by 
the  lighted  windows  of  the  houses,  and  the  long  rows  of  gas-lights 
in  the  streets.  In  fact,  Philadelphia,  seen  from  the  water  at  mid- 
night, presents  a  most  magnificent  spectacle. 


56  DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER. 


Philadelphia  at  night  in  Franklin's  time. 


But  it  was  very  different  from  this  in  Franklin's  time.  There 
might  then  have  been  a  few  small  vessels  lying  in  under  the  shore, 
but  they  would  have  had  no  signals.  The  streets  were  not  light- 
ed. People  carried  lanterns  when  they  went  about  after  dark. 
And  as  for  lights  in  the  windows,  every  body  there  went  to  bed  at 
ten  o'clock,  so  that  the  only  chance  of  seeing  the  illumination  of  a 
fire  or  a  candle  within  a  house  was  that  some  one  might  be  sick, 
and  a  lamp  or  candle  might  be  left  burning  for  the  watchers. 

The  men  in  the  boat  had  a  great  dispute  on  the  question  wheth- 
er they  could  have  passed  by  Philadelphia  or  not.  Some  said  they 
must  have  passed  it.  Others  said  it  was  impossible.  Finally, 
they  concluded  that,  at  any  rate,  they  would  not  go  any  further ; 
so  they  turned  the  boat's  head  toward  the  shore,  and,  finding  a  lit- 
tle creek,  they  ran  the  boat  up  into  it,  and  landed. 

The  night  was  quite  cool,  and  so  our  travelers  concluded  that 
they  would  build  a  fire.  In  fact,  they  needed  a  fire  for  company 
as  well  as  for  warmth.  A  fire,  when  persons  are  encamped  in  a 
solitary  place  at  night,  has  a  very  cheering  and  animating  influ- 
ence ;  so  much  so,  that  if  a  boy  were  to  get  lost,  and  have  to  stay 
in  the  wToods  all  night,  and  could  have  his  choice  either  to  have 
another  boy  with  him  for  company,  and  stay  in  the  dark,  or  to 
hcive  a  fire  for  company,  and  stay  alone,  I  think  he  would  find 
himself  somewhat  puzzled  to  know  which  to  choose. 

Which  should  you  choose  ? 

Fortunately,  Franklin's  party  were  not  placed  in  any  such  di- 
lemma.*    They  had  plenty  of  company,  and  they  had  also  the 

*  A  dilemma  is  a  case  in  which  a  person  is  shut  up  to  a  choice  between  two 
things,  both,  perhaps,  disagreeable  or  difficult. 


DOWN    THE    DELAWARE    RIVER.  57 

* 

Encampment  of  the  party  on  the  bank  of  the  river. 

means  for  making  a  fire.  They  found,  near  the  place  where  they 
landed,  the  ruins  of  an  old  fence.  They  took  some  of  the  rails  for 
wood,  and  to  get  fire  I  suppose,  they  had  a  tinder-box,  for  phos- 
phoric matches  had  not  been  invented  in  those  days.  By  this 
means  they  built  a  good  fire,  and,  after  warming  themselves  well, 
they  lay  down  to  sleep  around  it,  and  remained  there  till  morning. 

In  the  morning,  the  men  who  belonged  to  the  boat  knew  at  once 
where  they  were.  They  had  not  gone  beyond  Philadelphia, 
though  they  had  got  almost  to  it.  As  soon  as  they  had  thus  found 
out  their  position,  they  got  into  the  boat  again,  and  rowed  on  till 
they  reached  the  city.  The  place  where  they  landed  was  at  the 
Market  Street  wharf  or  pier.  It  is  important  to  state  this  fact,  as 
this  book  may  be  read  by  many  boys  and  girls  who  live  in  Phila- 
delphia, some  of  whom  may  like  to  go  down  to  the  foot  of  Market 
Street,  when  they  are  taking  a  walk  in  that  vicinity,  and  see  ex- 
actly where  young  Franklin  landed  when  he  first  came  to  their 
city. 

Whether  they  can  find  the  creek  where  the  boat  landed  in  the 
night,  I  do  not  know.  Franklin  says  it  was  called  Cooper's  Creek, 
and  that  it  was  only  a  little  way  above  the  town. 

When  the  boat  landed,  Franklin  found  that  he  had  in  his  pocket 
one  dollar,  and  also  a  parcel  of  pennies,  amounting  to  about  a  shil- 
ling. This  was  all  the  money  he  had.  He  offered  the  boatmen 
the  pennies  to  pay  for  his  passage  down  the  river.  At  first  they 
refused  to  take  this  money,  saying  he  had  row7ed  so  much  coming 
down  that  he  had  fully  earned  his  passage,  but  Franklin  insisted 
upon  it.  He  felt  very  independent,  although  he  had  only  a  dollar 
left.     In  fact,  those  young  men  who  are  conscious  of  possessing 


58 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 


Franklin  in  the  streets  of  Philadelphia. 


Visit  to  the  baker's. 


strength  and  skill  to  earn  their  living  with  their  own  hands,  are 
generally  more  independent  in  feeling  than  any  body  else. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 


It  was  nine  or  ten  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  when  Franklin 

landed  in  Philadelphia,  and  here  is  an  engraving  representing  the 
singular  appearance  that  he  made  in  the 
streets,  an  hour  afterward.  He  walked 
up  from  the  landing  toward  Market  Street, 
tired  with  the  hard  rowing  which  he  had 
done  during  the  night,  and  very  hungry, 
and  not  knowing  where  to  go  to  buy  any 
thing  to  eat ;  for  of  course,  as  it  was 
Sunday,  the  shops  were  all  shut.  While 
walking  thus,  he  met  a  boy  eating  a  piece 
of  bread.  He  asked  the  boy  where  he 
got  that  bread.  "At  the  baker's,"  said 
the  boy.  "  Where  is  the  baker's  ?"  asked 
Franklin.     So  the  boy  told  him  where 

the  baker's  was,  and  Franklin  proceeded  to  the  place. 

He  went  in,  and,  seeing  the  baker,  he  told  him  that  he  wished 

to  buy  some  biscuits      The  baker  said  they  did  not  bake  biscuits. 
Biscuits  were  a  very  well  known  and  common  kind  of  baking 

in  Boston,  but  it  seems  that  it  was  not  customary  to  make  them 

in  Philadelphia. 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA.  59 

The  threepenny  loaves.  Miss  Deborah.  Franklin's  forlorn  appearance. 

"Then  give  me  a  threepenny  loaf  of  bread,"  said  Franklin. 

The  threepenny  loaf  was  also,  as  it  proved,  a  Boston  notion. 
The  baker  said  he  had  not  that  kind. 

"Well,  then,  give  me  something  or  other,"  said  Franklin — 
"threepenny  worth  of  bread,  in  any  form  you  please." 

So  the  baker  gave  him  three  rolls,  each  being  worth  a  penny. 
The  rolls  were  made  of  a  kind  of  bread  that  was  raised  very  light, 
and,  though  only  a  penny  apiece  in  price,  they  were  very  large. 
The  three  rolls  made  more  than  Franklin  wanted,  though  he  was 
very  hungry  ;  still,  as  he  had  called  for  threepenny  worth,  he 
thought  he  would  take  them  all.  He  tried  to  put  one  or  two  of 
them  in  his  pockets,  but  his  pockets  were  full,  and  there  was  no 
room.  So  he  had  to  carry  them  the  best  way  he  could.  He 
accordingly  took  one  under  each  arm,  and  with  the  other — the 
one  he  was  eating — in  his  hand,  he  walked  along  the  street,  eat- 
ing as  he  went.  The  engraving  on  the  opposite  page  is  a  picture 
of  him. 

While  he  was  going  along  the  street  in  this  fashion,  a  girl, 
named  Deborah  Read,  happened  to  be  looking  out  at  the  window 
of  her  father's  house,  and  when  she  saw  this  boy  coming  by,  with 
his  mouth  full  of  the  bread  that  he  was  eating,  and  two  rolls  more 
under  his  arms,  she  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  absurd  figure 
that  he  made.  He  looked  worse  than  he  otherwise  would  have 
done,  from  the  fact  that  his  clothes  were  poor,  and  were  soiled  and 
defaced  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  his  long  and  wearisome  journey. 
All  his  good  clothes  were  in  his  trunk,  which  he  had  sent  round 
from  New  York  by  water,  because  there  was  no  way  by  which  he 
could  bring  his  trunk  with  him  across  the  land.     It  is  not  wonder- 


60  SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 

Franklin  goes  down  to  the  river  to  get  a  drink. 

ful  that,  under  these  circumstances,  Deborah  Read  saw  something 
ridiculous  in  the  figure  that  he  made. 

It  is  a  little  curious  and  remarkable  that  this  very  Deborah  Read 
afterward  became  Franklin's  wife.  This  circumstance,  however, 
though  curious  and  remarkable — that  is,  worthy  of  notice — is  not 
at  all  extraordinary,  since  nothing  is  more  common,  in  all  ages  of 
the  world,  and  in  all  states  of  society,  than  for  girls  to  begin  with 
laughing  at  a  young  man,  and  to  end  with  marrying  him.  In  fact, 
I  have  heard  it  said  that  girls  sometimes  pretend  to  laugh  at  a 
young  man  of  their  acquaintance  as  a  ruse  or  artifice  to  aid  them 
in  concealing  the  interest  they  feel  in  him.  If  this  be  so — and  I 
have  no  means  of  knowing  whether  it  be  or  not — boys  should 
never  resent  too  strongly  or  take  too  seriously  any  jesting  words 
which  they  may  have  heard  that  young  ladies  of  their  acquaint- 
ance have  spoken  concerning  them. 

Franklin  found,  after  he  had  eaten  one  of  his  rolls,  that  he  had 
had  enough,  and  at  first  he  did  not  know  what  he  should  do  with 
the  other  two.  He  began  to  wish  for  a  drink,  however,  and  so  he 
turned  his  steps  toward  the  landing  again,  at  the  Market  Street 
wharf,  in  order  to  get  some  water  from  the  river.  When  he 
reached  the  wharf,  he  saw  a  woman  and  her  son,  who  had  just 
come  down  the  Delaware,  and  who  seemed  to  be  poor,  and  so  he 
gave  the  bread  to  them.  The  boy  seems,  in  the  engraving,  to  be 
very  glad  to  get  the  bread. 

The  woman  is  seated  on  a  raised  part  of  the  deck.  It  is  very 
common  to  have  the  part  of  the  deck  which  is  toward  the  stern 
raised  somewhat  above  the  rest,  in  order  to  get  a  proper  height  for 
a  cabin  below,  and  also  to  give  the  captain  and  the  helmsman,  who 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 


61 


The  poor  woman  and  her  son. 


Franklin's  present. 


62  SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 

Description  of  the  engraving.  The  word  Quaker.  A  good  rule. 

usually  stand  on  that  part  of  the  deck,  a  commanding-  position,  so 
that  they  can  see  well. 

The  woman's  feet  are  upon  one  of  the  hatches — that  is,  one  of 
the  places  where  there  is  an  opening  leading  down  into  the  hold. 
The  cargo  of  a  vessel  is  put  down  through  the  hatches,  and,  when 
the  cargo  is  in,  the  hatches  are  closed  by  strong  covers  made  of 
plank,  which  go  over  them.  To  cover  the  hatches  securely  in  this 
way  is  very  necessary,  otherwise  the  rain,  and  the  spray  which 
sometimes  dashes  over  upon  the  decks  of  the  ship,  would  go  down 
the  hatchway  into  the  hold,  and  spoil  the  goods.  Besides,  the  sea- 
men and  passengers  walking  about  would  be  likely  to  fall  down 
into  these  openings  if  they  were  left  uncovered. 

After  this,  Franklin  went  up  into  the  town  again.  It  was  now 
time  for  people  to  go  to  meeting,  and  as  Franklin  saw  several  per- 
sons neatly  dressed  walking  along  the  street,  he  thought  he  would 
follow  them.  Under  their  guidance  he  was  led  into  a  large  meet- 
ing-house belonging  to  the  Friends.*  Now  the  meetings  of  the 
Friends  are  in  many  respects  different  from  those  of  other  Chris- 
tians.    Sometimes  the  congregation  sit  in  silence  the  whole  time, 

*  The  Friends  are  sometimes  called  Quakers,  but  it  is  generally  better  to  call 
them  Friends,  that  being  the  name  by  which  they  designate  themselves.  The 
name  Quaker  was  originally  given  to  them  in  derision.  It  is  a  good  principle,  both 
for  boys  and  men  to  adopt,  that  every  person  and  every  class  of  persons  should  be 
allowed  to  choose  their  own  names,  and  then  that  the  rest  of  the  world  should  call 
them  by  those  names,  and  by  no  others.  While  you  are  boys,  never  call  your  play- 
mates by  names  that  you  think  they  do  not  like.  When  you  become  men,  never 
give  opprobrious  names  to  the  parties  in  politics,  or  the  denominations  in  religion, 
that  are  opposed  to  you.  Contend  with  them  if  you  please,  but  do  it  in  a  manly 
and  honorable  way.  To  attempt  to  create  a  prejudice  against  any  kind  of  opinion 
by  giving  those  who  adopt  it  opprobrious  names,  is  not  man\y  or  honorable. 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA.  63 

Religious  usages  of  the  Friends.  Reasons  for  them. 


engaged  —  many  of  them,  doubtless  —  in  meditation  and  mental 
prayer.  They  have  no  minister  to  spend  his  time  during  the 
week  in  preparing  sermons  to  preach  to  them  on  the  Sabbath. 
The  older  and  more  venerable  members  of  the  society  speak  when- 
ever it  is  impressed  upon  their  minds  that  they  ought  to  do  so, 
and  they  think  it  is  better  that  the  audience  should  sit  still,  and 
be  left  to  their  own  thoughts,  rather  than  that  any  one  should  at- 
tempt to  speak  to  them,  unless  there  is  an  impression  upon  his  mind 
from  the  Holy  Spirit  of  something  that  he  ought  to  say  to  them. 

Another  thing :  the  Friends  wear  their  hats  in  meeting,  except 
in  time  of  prayer.  They  rise  and  take  off  their  hats  as  an  act  of 
homage  to  Almighty  God  in  time  of  prayer  ;  but,  as  they  consider 
the  taking  off  of  the  hat  an  act  of  homage,  they  do  not  think  it  is 
proper  to  do  it  merely  out  of  respect  to  man. 

To  those  who  have  not  been  accustomed  to  attend  the  meetings 
of  the  Friends,  the  sight  of  the  whole  congregation,  divided  as 
they  are — the  men  occupying  one  half  of  the  house,  and  the  women 
the  other-^and  all  the  men  having  their  hats  upon  their  heads 
while  listening  to  the  preaching,  seems  to  present  a  very  extra- 
ordinary spectacle.  When  we  reflect  upon  it,  however,  we  see 
there  is  really  no  reason  why  men  should  be  uncovered  in  the 
house  of  God  any  more  than  women,  and  women  wear  their  bon- 
nets in  church  among  all  denominations  of  Christians. 

Franklin  took  off  his  hat,  however,  when  he  went  into  the  meet- 
ing, as  he  had  always  been  accustomed  to  do  in  entering  the  house 
of  God,  and,  after  taking  his  seat,  he  waited  a  long  time  for  the 
meeting  to  begin.  But  it  so  happened  that  day  that  there  was 
nothing  said,  and  so  the  congregation  sat  still  in  silent  meditation, 


64 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 


Franklin  falls  asleep  in  meeting. 


He  is  waked  up. 


until  at  last  Franklin,  having  been  awake  almost  all  the  night  be- 
fore with  rowing  in  the 
boat,  and  hearing  nothing 
said,  began  to  feel  drowsy ; 
so  he  leaned  his  head 
against  a  pillar,  and  shut 
his  eyes,  and  here  you  see 
him  fast  asleep. 
Franklin  continued  asleep 
till  the  end  of  the  meeting, 
and  even  then,  the  noise 
that  the  people  made  in  go- 
ing out  did  not  wake  him. 
Some  one  of  the  people, 
however,  seeing  that  he 
was  asleep,  went  to  him 
and  aroused  him,  doing  it 
in  a  kind  and  gentle  man- 
ner. The  Friends  are  cel- 
ebrated all  the  world  over 
for  their  benevolence  and 
humanity.  It  is  no  matter 
whether  the  trouble  that  a  man  is  in  be  great  or  small,  they  always 
seem  to  take  pleasure  in  doing  all  in  their  power  to  relieve  it. 
Some  persons,  in  seeing  a  young  man  asleep  in  such  a  case,  would 
have  gone  out,  pointing  at  him  and  laughing  at  him. 

Franklin  rose  from  his  seat  somewhat  confused,  and  went  out. 
He  was  now  in  the  street  again,  and  he  did  not  know  where  to  go. 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA.  65 

Franklin's  lonely  condition.  His  trade.  An  advantage  that  he  enjoyed. 

He  was  houseless  and  homeless,  and  he  had,  moreover,  very  little 
money  in  his  pocket.  He,  however,  was  not  disheartened  or  dis- 
pirited, for  although  he  was  in  a  strange  city,  and  had  no  money — 
or,  rather,  scarcely  any — he  had  a  good  trade,  by  which  he  knew 
that  he  could  earn  his  living.  Having  a  trade  by  which  a  man 
can  earn  five  hundred  dollars  a  year,  is  about  equivalent  to  having 
a  fortune  of  ten  thousand  dollars  in  a  bank  ;  for  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars will  only  produce,  on  interest,  about  five  hundred  dollars  a 
year!  It  is  true  a  man  with  a  trade  may  become  sick,  and  not  be 
able  to  work  at  his  trade  ;  and  so,  on  the  other  hand,  in  respect  to 
a  man  with  a  fortune,  the  bank  where  his  property  is  invested  may 
fail  or  be  robbed,  and  so  he  may  lose  all  his  money.  One  of  these 
dangers  is  probably  about  a  fair  offset  to  the  other  ;  so  that  a  man 
in  a  strange,  city,  with  no  money  and  a  good  trade,  is  on  a  level, 
in  respect  to  independence,  with  a  man  who  should  have  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  in  money  and  no  trade. 

There  was  another  great  advantage  that  Franklin  enjoyed  at 
this  period  of  his  life,  from  which  young  men  at  the  present  day 
in  large  cities  are  often  debarred.  He  was  entirely  at  liberty  to 
do  just  as  he  thought  fit  himself,  without  any  regard  to  what 
would  be  considered  genteel.  A  young  man  beginning  the  world 
now,  feels  very  often  compelled  to  spend  money  for  things  that  he 
cares  very  little  about  himself,  in  order  that  he  may  make  a  gen- 
teel appearance  in  the  eyes  of  his  acquaintances.  This  keeps 
him  back  a  great  deal,  sometimes,  in  his  efforts  to  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  his  future  fortune.  It  is  a  very  fine  thing  to  be  genteel, 
no  doubt,  and  even  fashionable,  and  there  is  a  great  pleasure  in  it 
when  one's  fortune  is  made  ;  but  it  is  somewhat  inconvenient  to 
i,  E 


66  SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA. 

Franklin  determines  to  look  for  a  lodging. 

say  the  least,  for  a  young  man,  struggling  to  get  well  begun  in 
the  world,  to  be  compelled,  out  of  regard  to  the  opinions  of  others, 
to  expend,  in  mere  outward  show  and  display,  the  money  which  he 
might  use  most  profitably  in  his  business  as  an  element  of  power 
to  carry  him  forward  to  fortune. 

Franklin  had  none  of  these  restrictions.  He  was  not  obliged  to 
go  to  some  elegant  hotel,  where  he  would  have  to  expend  all  his 
money  in  a  single  night  for  a  genteel  lodging.  He  could  buy 
bread  and  eat  it  in  the  streets,  if  he  could  make  his  money  go 
farther  by  so  doing.  He  did  not  care  if  some  of  the  young  ladies 
did  laugh.  The  very  ones  that  laughed  would  be  the  most  glad, 
very  likely,  to  have  him  choose  any  of  them  for  a  wife,  when  he 
should  have  attained  the  prosperity  which  this  prudence  and  fru- 
gality led  to. 

Franklin,  after  he  came  out  of  meeting,  walked  along  the  street, 
looking  out  for  some  inn  where  he  could  go  and  have  a  lodging 
for  the  night.  His  plan  was  to  go  the  next  morning  to  see  Mr. 
Bradford,  the  printer,  to  whom  he  had  been  recommended  by  his 
father  at  New  York.  He  could  not  go  there  that  day,  because  it 
was  Sunday,  and  so,  as  he  was  now  tired  of  walking  about  the 
streets,  he  concluded  to  look  up  his  lodgings  for  the  night. 

He  thought  he  would  inquire  of  some  one  in  the  street  for  a 
suitable  place.  He  did  not  think  it  safe  to  go  to  any  tavern  that 
he  should  chance  to  see,  for  fear  that  it  might  be  a  bad  place, 
where  he  would  get  among  drunkards  and  thieves  ;  so  he  con- 
cluded that  it  was  best  to  inquire.  But  then  the  question  was, 
whom  should  he  inquire  of?  He  knew  not  a  single  person  in  all 
Philadelphia.     Finally,  he  thought  that  he  would  walk  along  the 


SUNDAY    IN    PHILADELPHIA.  67 

He  meets  a  Friend  in  the  street,  and  inquires  of  him. 

street  until  he  met  some  person  who  looked  kind-hearted  and 
honest,  and  ask  him. 

He  had  not  walked  far,  after  coming  to  this  resolution,  before 
he  met  a  young  Friend  coming  toward  him,  whose  countenance, 
as  he  says,  pleased  him,  and  he  accordingly  stopped  him,  and 
asked  him  if  he  would  be  kind  enough  to  tell  him  where  was  a 
good  place  for  a  stranger  to  get  a  lodging. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Friend,  "  I  will  tell  thee.  There  is  indeed  a 
house  close  by  here  where  they  receive  strangers,  but  it  is  not  a 
reputable  one." 

So  saying,  the  Friend  pointed  to  a  tavern  by  the  side  of  the 
street,  near  where  they  were  standing.  It  had  a  sign  of  three 
sailors  painted  over  the  door,  and  the  name  of  the  tavern  was  the 
Three  Mariners. 

"  I  would  not  advise  thee  to  go  to  that  house,"  said  the  Friend, 
"but  if  thou  wilt  come  with  me,  I  will  show  thee  another  which 
is  better." 

Franklin  thankfully  accepted  this  invitation,  and  the  Friend 
conducted  him  to  another  tavern  which  was  called  the  Crooked 
Billet.  It  was  situated  in  Water  Street.  Franklin  went  in  and 
engaged  a  room.  Before  he  went  to  his  room,  however,  he  called 
for  some  dinner.  The  landlord  eyed  him  very  suspiciously  all  this 
time,  suspecting  that  he  must  be  some  runaway  apprentice.  Being 
so  young,  and  looking  so  soiled  and  wayworn,  and  having,  more- 
over, only  one  small  bundle  of  clothes  for  baggage,  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  he  was  taken  for  a  runaway.  The  landlord  gave  him 
some  dinner — asking  him  several  questions  while  he  was  eating, 
in  order  to  find  out,  if  possible,  who  he  was — and  then,  after  he 


68  mr.  keimer's  printing-office. 

Franklin  goes  to  bed.  The  next  morning  he  proceeds  to  Mr.  Keimer's. 

had  finished  his  dinner,  showed  him  to  his  room.  The  poor  boy 
was  glad  enough  to  see  a  bed.  He  did  not  even  stop  to  take  off 
his  clothes,  but  threw  himself  down  on  the  outside  of  the  bed, 
just  as  he  was,  and  was  very  soon  fast  asleep. 

The  first  thing  that  he  was  conscious  of  after  this  was  a  knock- 
ing at  the  door.  They  had  come  to  call  him  to  supper.  Franklin 
got  up  and  found  that  it  was  six  o'clock.  He  had  slept  all  the 
afternoon.  He  was  still  almost  too  sleepy  to  go  to  supper  ;  how- 
ever, he  went  down  ;  but  he  came  back  again  as  soon  nearly  as 
he  finished  eating,  and  undressed  himself  and  got  into  bed.  He 
was  soon  fast  asleep  again,  and  he  slept  very  soundly  until  the 
next  morning. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

mr.  keimer's  printing-office. 

Franklin  rose  the  next  morning,  and  found  himself  greatly  re- 
freshed. He  brushed  his  clothes,  and  made  himself  look  as  neat 
as  he  could  with  such  means  as  he  had  at  command,  for  his  trunk 
had  not  yet  come,  and  after  breakfast  he  set  out  to  go  to  the  print- 
er's, to  see  if  he  could  get  employment. 

It  seems  that  at  this  time  there  were  two  printing  establishments 
in  Philadelphia,  while  there  was  not  much  more  business  than  was 
desirable  for  one.  The  two  printers,  therefore,  were  rivals  in  some 
sense,  and  yet  they  were  ostensibly  on  friendly  terms  with  each 
other.  Their  names  were  Bradford  and  Keimer.  Mr.  Bradford 
was  a  young  man,  the  son  of  the  Mr.  Bradford  of  New  York,  whom 


mr.  keimer's  printing-office.  69 

Franklin's  interview  with  Mr.  Bradford  at  his  printing-office. 

Franklin  had  called  upon  there,  and  who  recommended  to  him,  as 
you  recollect,  to  come  to  Philadelphia  and  apply  to  his  son.  Mr. 
Keimer  was  a  young  man  who  had  just  commenced  business  in 
the  town. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  old  Mr.  Bradford,  of  New  York,  who 
had  recommended  to  Franklin  to  proceed  to  Philadelphia,  was 
about  going  to  Philadelphia  himself  at  that  time,  to  visit  his  son, 
and  he  set  out  on  the  journey  a  short  time  after  Franklin  did.  Mr. 
Bradford  traveled  across  New  Jersey  on  horseback,  and  as  Frank- 
lin came  on  foot,  and  was  detained,  moreover,  by  the  storms  and 
other  mishaps  that  he  encountered,  Mr.  Bradford  arrived  in  Phila- 
delphia before  him ;  so  that,  when  he  went  to  young  Mr.  Brad- 
ford's office,  he  found  the  old  gentleman  himself  there. 

Mr.  Bradford  the  younger,  after  hearing  what  Franklin  had  to 
say,  replied  that  he  was  not  in  want  of  any  more  workmen  then 
than  he  had  already. 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  there  is  another  printer  in  the  town,  who  has 
lately  set  up,  and  he  may  like  to  employ  you.  His  name  is 
Keimer." 

Franklin  asked  where  Mr.  Keimer's  printing-office  was,  and  aft- 
er giving  him  the  necessary  direction,  Mr.  Bradford  added, 

"  If  Mr.  Keimer  does  not  wish  to  employ  you,  you  may  come 
back  here,  and  I  will  give  you  something  or  other  to  do — enough, 
at  least,  to  pay  your  board  and  lodging — until  you  can  get  a  situ- 
ation." 

Both  these  offers  evinced  a  noble  and  generous  spirit  on  the  part 
of  Mr.  Bradford.  Many  men  in  his  situation  would  not  have  rec- 
ommended to  Franklin  to  go  to  Mr.  Keimer.     They  would  have 


70  mr.  keimer's  printing-office. 

The  advantages  of  a  generous  treatment  of  rivals. 

considered  this  as.  only  helping  a  rival,  and  so  injuring  themselves. 
But  I  do  not  think  there  is  much  lost  in  helping  others  on,  even 
where  they  are  going  the  same  road  with  ourselves,  so  that  there 
is  danger  of  their  being  somewhat  in  our  way.  Besides,  even  if 
the  result  of  such  kindness  to  others  should  be  to  prevent  our  go- 
ing along  quite  so  fast  ourselves,  there  is  much  satisfaction  and 
comfort  in  being  useful  to  our  fellow-creatures,  and  m  being  on 
friendly  terms  with  them,  that  we  shall  spend  our  lives  more  hap- 
pily, even  if  we  do  not  get  rich  quite  so  fast,  by  acting  on  this  prin- 
ciple. 

Suppose  you  were  going  up  a  mountain  alone,  and  you  were  to 
see  a  stranger  boy,  younger  than  yourself,  coming  on  behind  you, 
would  you  not  rather  wait  a  little  for  him,  and  help  him  along,  and 
have  his  company  and  friendship  all  the  way,  even  suppose  that 
you  should  not  get  to  the  top  quite  so  soon  ?  or  would  you  rather 
hasten  on  and  leave  him  behind,  and,  perhaps,  roll  stones  down 
upon  him  from  above  to  hinder  and  trouble  him?  That  is  the  way 
some  men  do  in  respect  to  those  who  are  in  the  same  business 
with  themselves. 

Old  Mr.  Bradford  was  as  friendly  in  disposition  as  his  son  had 
been,  and  he  offered  to  go  with  Franklin  to  Mr.  Keimer's  office. 
So  they  went  together.  When  they  entered  the  office,  Mr.  Brad- 
ford told  Mr.  Keimer  that  he  had  brought  a  young  man  who  was 
acquainted  with  the  printing  business,  and  who  was  in  search  of 
employment,  and  he  asked  Mr.  Keimer  if  he  would  like  to  employ 
him.  Mr.  Keimer  turned  to  Franklin,  and  asked  him  what  his 
name  wras,  and  how  old  he  was,  and  where  he  came  from,  and 
some  other  similar  questions,  and  then  gave  him  a  composing- 


mr.  keimer's  printing-office.  71 

Franklin  is  put  to  trial.  Result  of  the  trial. 

stick,  and  requested  him  to  go  to  a  case,  and  set  type  a  little,  so 
that  Mr.  Keimer  might  see  how  he  could  work. 

You  will  recollect,  perhaps,  that  in  describing  the  process  of 
printing,  some  chapters  back,  I  told  you  that  the  types  were  put 
in  the  several  compartments  of  a  broad  box  called  a  case,  and  that 
the  printer  took  them  from  these  compartments  in  their  proper 
order  to  spell  the  words  which  he  wished  to  print,  and  then  stood 
them  up  in  that  order  in  a  little  iron  box  or  frame,  which  he  held 
in  his  hand  for  the  purpose.  This  box  or  frame,  which  is  a  very 
curious  thing,  is  called  a  composing-stick,  although  it  is  not  at  all 
like  a  stick  in  any  respect.  It  was  one  of  these  composing-sticks 
that  Mr.  Keimer  wished  Franklin  to  take,  in  order  to  set  types  in 
it  by  way  of  showing  what  he  could  do.  Now  Franklin  could  set 
types  exceedingly  fast  and  well,  and  Mr.  Keimer  was  quite  satis- 
fied with  the  result  of  the  experiment ;  so  he  told  him  at  once  that 
he  would  employ  him  very  soon. 

Mr.  Keimer  then  turned  to  Mr.  Bradford,  and  began  talking 
about  his  plans  and  prospects  in  respect  to  getting  business  in 
Philadelphia  as  a  printer.  He  had  no  idea  that  Mr.  Bradford 
was  the  father  of  the  other  printer.  He  had  never  seen  him 
before,  and  by  his  coming  in  as  he  did,  bringing  young  Franklin 
to  offer  him  as  a  workman,  Mr.  Keimer  supposed  that  he  was 
some  respectable  citizen  of  the  town,  who  took  an  interest  in  his 
coming  there,  and  was  disposed  to  help  him  by  every  means  in 
his  power  ;  so  Mr.  Keimer  began  to  talk  to  him  quite  freely 
about  all  his  plans  for  getting  the  business  away  from  the  other 
printer. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Bradford  heard  Keimer  speaking  in  this  way, 


72 


MR.    KEIMER  S    PRINTING-OFFICE. 


Conversation  between  Bradford  and  Keimer. 


he  concluded  that,  instead  of  telling  him  at  once  who  he  was, 
that  Keimer  might  not  go  on  thus  and  betray  himself  to  the 
father  of  his  rival  by  making  known  all  his  secret  plans  and 
designs,  he  would  listen  and  hear  all  that  Keimer  was  willing  to 
say.  He  even  drew  him  out  more  and  more  by  asking  questions, 
all  of  which  Keimer  answered  very  confidingly,  not  in  the  least 
suspecting  who  the  stranger  was. 

Here  you  see  a  picture  of  the  men  engaged  in  the  conversation. 


Which  is  Mr.  Keimer  ? 
And  which  is  Mr.  Bradford  ? 
And  which  is  young  Franklin  ? 

The  artist,  in  making  the  drawing,  has  very  properly  put  Frank- 
lin in  the  background,  because  he  merely  stood  by  as  a  listener — 


mr.  keimer's  printing-office.  73 

Remarks  on  the  engraving.  The  press  in  the  background. 

Mr.  Keimer  and  Mr.  Bradford  being  the  principal  actors  in  this 
scene.  See  how  earnest  Mr.  Keimer  is  in  explaining  his  inten- 
tions and  plans  to  Mr.  Bradford.  Observe,  also,  how  striking  and 
full  of  meaning  is  the  expression  of  Mr.  Bradford's  face.  He 
seems  to  say  to  himself,  "Indeed  !  So  that  is  your  plan,  is  it?" 
See  also  how  adroitly  the  artist  has  given  such  an  expression  to 
Franklin's  face  as  corresponds  with  the  situation  he  is  placed  in. 
You  can  only  see  a  part  of  his  face,  but  how  plainly  that  part 
tells  you  that  he  is  listening  to  all  that  is  said — that  he  under- 
stands it  all,  and  is  almost  disposed  to  laugh,  but  is  endeavoring 
all  the  time  to  look  grave  and  indifferent.  It  requires  great  skill 
in  the  designer  to  give  so  much  expression  to  a  face  by  so  few 
touches  of  his  pencil. 

At  last  the  conversation  was  ended,  and  Mr.  Bradford  went 
away. 

Mr.  Keimer  then  asked  Franklin  who  that  gentleman  was  that 
came  with  him.  Franklin  said  that  it  was  Mr.  Bradford,  of  New 
York,  the  father  of  Mr.  Bradford,  the  printer,  of  Philadelphia. 

Mr.  Keimer  was  very  much  astonished  to  hear  this,  of  course, 
and  he  wished  that  he  had  not  been  so  indiscreet  as  to  talk  as  he 
had  done  about  his  private  affairs  to  an  entire  stranger. 

The  big  frame  that  you  see  drawn  faintly  in  the  background  of 
the  picture  is  the  press,  where  the  sheets  of  paper,  after  they  are 
printed,  are  pressed  smooth  again.  It  is  not  the  press  for  doing 
the  printing  itself.  In  fact,  every  sheet  of  paper,  in  passing  through 
the  printing-office,  has  to  be  pressed  twice — once  to  print  the  let- 
ters and  words  upon  it,  and  a  second  time  to  make  the  sheet 
smooth  again,  because,  in  printing  the  letters  and  words  upon  it, 


74  mr.  keimer's  printing-office. 

The  balls  for  putting  on  ink.  Nature  of  printers  ink. 

the  paper  becomes  indented,  and  it  must  be  made  smooth  again 
by  putting  it  into  another  press,  between  sheets  of  smooth  paste- 
board— a  great  many  in  a  pile — and  then  screwed  very  tight. 
They  sometimes  leave  the  paper  in  the  press  all  night,  and  then, 
in  the  morning,  when  they  take  it  out,  they  find  that  it  is  perfectly 
smooth. 

The  press  for  this  purpose  has  to  be  made  very  strong  and 
massive.  The  frame  of  it  is  formed  of  timbers,  as  you  see  in  the 
engraving. 

By  the  side  of  the  press,  on  a  shelf,  you  see  a  sort  of  ball  with 
a  handle.  This  is  what  they  were  accustomed  to  use  in  former 
times  to  ink  the  face  of  the  type  with,  when  they  were  ready  to 
print  from  them.  They  used  two  of  these  balls,  the  workman 
holding  one  in  one  hand  and  the  other  in  the  other.  You  can  see 
a  picture  of  them  both  in  the  engraving  ten  or  fifteen  pages  fur- 
ther on.  These  balls  were  made  soft,  and  covered  with  leather. 
The  ink  was  taken  up  by  them  from  a  smooth  board,  which  was 
fastened  like  a  sort  of  shelf  at  a  convenient  place  near  the  press, 
and  on  which  a  portion  of  ink  had  been  previously  placed.  The 
ink  used  in  printing,  I  must  add,  is  not  fluid,  like  writing  ink.  It 
is  very  thick  and  tenacious,  like  tar. 

The  workman,  after  taking  up  some  of  the  ink  from  the  shelf 
by  means  of  his  balls,  would  work  the  balls  together  until  the 
ink  was  equally  distributed  all  over  the  flat  surface  of  the  leather, 
and  then  he  would  apply  it  to  the  types.  These  balls  have,  how- 
ever, now  gone  out  of  use.  The  printers  now  use  rollers  instead, 
which  are  much  easier  to  work,  and  much  better  in  every  respect. 


FRANKLIN    GOES    TO    WORK.  75 


Great  publishing  operations  in  Philadelphia  at  the  present  day. 


CHAPTER  X. 


FRANKLIN    GOES    TO    WORK. 


Philadelphia  is,  at  the  present  day,  one  of  the  greatest  publish- 
ing cities  in  the  world.  It  contains  a  large  number  of  immense 
printing-offices,  with  thousands  of  workmen  incessantly  employed 
in  setting  types  and  making  up  pages  and  forms,  and  long  rooms 
full  of  girls  sitting  at  tables  folding  and  stitching  books,  and  great 
power-presses,  driven  by  steam,  thundering  incessantly  at  their 
work,  and  printing  millions  and  millions  of  sheets  every  week.  In 
Franklin's  day,  how  different  it  was  !  All  the  monstrous  estab- 
lishments of  the  present  day  were  then  represented  by  the  two 
offices  of  Bradford  and  Keimer,  and  at  Keimer's  there  was  only 
one  case,  and  Franklin  could  not  be  employed  immediately  when 
he  applied,  because  Mr.  Keimer  himself  was  using  that  case,  and 
so  there  was  nothing  that  he  could  do  ! 

It  is  true,  there  was  a  press  for  printing  off  the  work  when  the 
types  were  set,  but  this  could  not  be  used,  because  there  were  no 
types  ready.  Mr.  Keimer  was  then  setting  them.  As  soon  as 
he  should  get  them  all  set  up  and  ready,  Franklin  might  print  the 
sheets  at  the  press,  while  Mr.  Keimer  was  setting  up  the  types  for 
something  else  ;  but  at  present  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do. 

Besides,  the  press  was  out  of  order.  Mr.  Keimer  himself  did 
not  know  how  to  put  it  in  order,  nor,  in  fact,  did  he  know  much 
about  using  it.  It  seems  that  there  are  two  separate  branches  to 
the  printing  art,  the  setting  up  of  the  types,  which  is  called  com- 


76  FRANKLIN    GOES    TO    WORK. 

Franklin  is  engaged  by  Mr.  Keimer.  Various  arrangements. 

position,  and  the  printing'  of  the  sheets,  which  is  called  press-work. 
Mr.  Keimer  only  understood  composition. 

He  took  Franklin  to  his  press  to  show  it  to  him.  Franklin, 
whose  custom  it  had  been  to  take  pains  to  learn  every  thing  that 
he  could,  understood  about  presses  and  press-work  as  well  as  about 
composition.  On  examining'  the  press,  therefore,  he  saw  what  the 
difficulty  was,  and  he  knew  how  to  remedy  it.  So  he  went  to 
work,  and  put  the  press  in  order.  He  then  made  an  arrangement 
with  Mr.  Keimer,  that  as  soon  as  the  work  which  Mr.  Keimer  was 
composing  was  ready,  he  should  come  and  print  it,  and  that,  in  the 
mean  time,  he  would  go  back  and  work  for  Mr.  Bradford,  to  pay 
for  his  board  and  lodging  there,  until  Mr.  Keimer  should  be  ready. 

It  is  a  curious  circumstance  that  the  work  which  Mr.  Keimer 
was  printing  was  a  work  of  his  own,  as  he  was  an  author  as  well 
as  a  printer.  Only  he  did  not  first  write  the  work,  and  then  set 
it  up  afterward,  but  he  put  up  his  sentences  in  type  as  fast  as  he 
made  them,  without  any  copy.  This  was  the  more  remarkable, 
as  the  work  was  in  poetry.  It  wras  an  elegy  on  a  man  who  had 
died  in  Philadelphia  a  short  time  before,  and  who  had  been  so 
much  respected  and  beloved  by  the  people  of  the  town  as  to  lead 
Mr.  Keimer  to  suppose  that  they  would  be  interested  in  reading 
his  elegy.  His  plan  wTas,  when  it  was  printed,  to  sell  it  about  the 
town,  and  so  make  money. 

The  arrangement  above  described  having  been  made,  and  the 
press  having  been  got  ready,  Franklin  went  back  to  Mr.  Bradford, 
who  gave  him  some  work  to  do,  and  let  him  have  board  and  lodg- 
ing at  his  house  until  Mr.  Keimer  should  call  for  him.  In  a  few 
days  Mr.  Keimer  sent  for  him.     In  fact,  he  was  so  much  pleased 


FRANKLIN    GOES    TO    WORK.  77 

Franklin  goes  to  board  at  Mr.  Read's.  Miss  Deborah. 

with  the  talent  and  capacity  which  his  new  workman  manifested, 
that  he  did  not  wait  for  the  elegy  to  be  ready.  He  happened  to 
have  at  that  time  an  offer  of  a  new  job,  the  printing-  of  a  pamphlet, 
so  he  got  a  new  pair  of  cases  made,  and  then  sent  for  Franklin  to 
come  and  set  up  the  pamphlet. 

There  was  still  a  question  about  board  and  lodging,  for  Mr. 
Keimer  did  not  keep  house  ;  so,  for  a  time,  Franklin  continued  to 
board  at  Mr.  Bradford's.  Mr.  Keimer  did  not  like  this  very  well. 
It  did  not  seem  to  him  suitable  that  one  of  his  workmen  should 
board  at  the  house  of  his  competitor  and  rival,  so  he  proposed  to 
Franklin  that  he  should  board  at  some  other  place.  Franklin 
asked  him  where  it  should  be.  He  replied  that  he  knew  a  Mr. 
Read's  where  he  could  board. 

It  happened  curiously  enough  that  this  Mr.  Read's  was  the  very 
place  where  the  young  girl  lived  who  laughed  at  Franklin's  gro- 
tesque appearance  when  he  was  walking  through  the  street,  with 
his  rolls  of  bread  under  his  arms  and  his  mouth  full,  on  the  first 
day  after  he  arrived  in  Philadelphia. 

Franklin  made  no  objection  to  the  arrangement  proposed  by 
Mr.  Keimer,  and  so  he  removed  to  Mr.  Read's.  His  trunk  of 
clothes,  too,  from  New  York,  which  he  had  sent  round  by  water, 
arrived  about  this  time,  and  he  could  now  dress  himself  quite 
neatly,  so  that,  as  he  says  himself  in  narrating  these  transactions, 
he  made  a  much  more  respectable  appearance  in  the  eyes  of  Miss 
Deborah  now,  than  he  did  the  first  day  she  saw  him. 

Thus  the  wanderer  was  at  last  very  comfortably  and  happily 
settled.  His  master,  Mr.  Keimer,  soon  began  to  have  a  very 
high   respect  for  him,  and  to  intrust  him  with  more  and  more 


78  FRANKLIN    GOES    TO    WORK. 

His  pleasant  situation.  His  extraordinary  talents. 

important  duties,  so  that  his  position  and  his  influence  in  the 
office  soon  became  very  high.  He  was  happy,  too,  in  his  board- 
ing-house. Miss  Read  he  found  a  very  agreeable  young  lady, 
and  he  used  to  like  very  much  to  see  and  talk  with  her  in  the 
evenings  after  his  work  for  the  day  was  done. 

He  began,  too,  to  form  some  acquaintances  among  the  young 
men  of  the  town,  though  he  avoided  very  carefully  all  those  whom 
he  saw  idling  about  the  streets,  and  spending  their  time  in  smok- 
ing and  drinking.  He  chose  for  his  associates  those  who  were 
fond  of  reading  and  study,  and  who  took  an  interest  in  improving 
their  minds  in  acquiring  knowledge. 

I  think,  however,  that  the  fact  of  Franklin's  taking  so  strong  an 
interest  in  intellectual  pursuits,  and  other  such  occupations,  was 
not  owing  altogether  to  his  good  sense  and  virtuous  principle.  It 
was  the  result,  in  part  at  least,  of  his  extraordinary  talents  and 
abilities.  A  young  man  of  dull  and  feeble  powers  of  mind  can 
not  take  the  same  pleasure  in  acquiring  knowledge  as  the  bright 
and  intelligent  may  be  expected  to  do.  His  nature  being  more 
like  that  of  a  mere  animal  in  respect  to  mental  endowments,  he 
must  be  expected  to  have  a  greater  taste  for  play,  and  for  mere 
animal  gratifications,  than  those  who  possess  higher  and  nobler 
powers.  When,  therefore,  we  see  a  young  man  who  dislikes  to 
learn,  and  prefers  to  spend  his  time  in  idleness  or  play,  it  is  gen- 
erally, though  not  always,  a  token  of  mental  inferiority.  It  is 
the  same  with  a  girl  who  takes  no  interest  in  improving  her  mind, 
but  thinks  only  of  dress,  and  amusement,  and  display. 

Franklin  would  have  been  happy  in  the  situation  in  which  he 
now  found  himself  placed,  were  it  not  for  the  feelings  of  uneasi- 


A    VISIT   FROM    THE    GOVERNOR.  79 

He  feels  self-condemned  and  unhappy  on  account  of  his  parents. 

ness  and  self-condemnation  which  he  felt  when  he  thought  of  his 
father  and  mother  at  home.  He  knew  what  bitter  anguish  they 
must  be  enduring  in  having  been  thus  abandoned  by  their  youngest 
and  dearest  son,  and  of  the  incessant  anxiety  which  they  must  suf- 
fer in  their  desire  to  learn  what  had  become  of  him.  He  did,  how- 
ever, all  in  his  power  to  banish  these  thoughts  from  his  mind,  and 
to  make  himself  as  contented  and  happy  as  possible.  He  kept  it 
a  profound  secret  from  all  his  friends  who  he  was,  and  where  he 
came  from.  In  fact,  only  one  person  in  Boston  knew  where  he 
had  gone,  and  that  was  Collins,  the  boy  who  had  helped  him  plan 
his  flight.  Collins  kept  the  secret  very  faithfully.  It  was,  how- 
ever, at  last  discovered,  and  that  in  a  very  singular  manner.  The 
circumstances  attending  this  discovery  will  be  related  in  the  next 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A    VISIT    FROM    THE    GOVERNOR. 


One  day,  after  Franklin  had  been  for  some  time  established  in 
his  place  in  Mr.  Keimer's  printing-office,  as  he  and  Mr.  Keimer 
were  at  work  near  the  window,  they  saw  the  governor  of  the  col- 
ony, and  another  gentleman  with  him,  both  elegantly  dressed  in 
the  costume  usually  worn  by  grand  officers  in  those  days.  Mr. 
Keimer  and  Franklin  both  looked  at  them,  and  were  presently 
very  much  surprised  to  see  that  they  were  coming  across  the  street 
directly  toward  Mr.  Keimer's  house,  and  immediately  afterward 
they  heard  them  knocking  at  the  door  below. 


80  A    VISIT    FROM    THE    GOVERNOR. 

A  very  unexpected  call.  Explanation  of  the  case. 

The  Governor's  name  was  Sir  William  Keith.  The  gentleman 
who  was  with  him  was  Colonel  French,  a  gentleman  who  resided 
at  Newcastle,  which  is  a  town  on  the  River  Delaware,  about 
forty  miles  lower  down  than  Philadelphia. 

Mr.  Keimer  was  greatly  excited  when  he  saw  these  gentlemen 
approaching  his  door.  He  supposed  that  the  Governor  was  com- 
ing for  some  reason  or  other  to  see  him,  and  he  ran  down  stairs 
at  once  to  receive  him. 

The  Governor,  however,  as  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Keimer,  asked  if 
there  was  a  young  man  in  his  office  named  Franklin.  Mr.  Keimer 
replied  that  there  was,  and  that  he  was  then  in  the  office  at  work. 
The  Governor  expressed  a  desire  to  see  him,  and  so  Mr.  Keimer 
invited  both  the  gentlemen  up  stairs.  When  they  entered  the 
office,  Mr.  Keimer  introduced  Franklin  to  the  Governor,  who 
immediately  fell  into  conversation  with  him,  and  expressed  great 
interest  in  his  welfare.  He  said  that  he  had  heard  of  him  at 
Newcastle,  a  few  days  before,  where  he  had  been  with  Colonel 
French.  He  said,  moreover,  that  he  wished  to  have  some  con- 
versation with  Franklin,  and  he  invited  him  to  go  over  to  a  tavern 
there  was  near  by,  where  he  and  Colonel  French  were  going,  and 
that  there  they  could  talk  without  interruption.  So  Franklin  laid 
aside  his  work,  and  went  away  with  the  strangers,  leaving  Mr. 
Keimer  extremely  astonished  at  the  occurrence.  He  wondered 
greatly  what  the  visit  of  such  distinguished  dignitaries  to  his 
young  journeyman  could  possibly  mean. 

In  order  to  explain  to  the  reader  what  it  meant,  I  must  go  back 
a  little.  It  seems  that  one  of  Franklin's  sisters  was  married  to  a 
certain  Captain  Holmes,  a  shipmaster,  who  sailed  a  vessel  to  and 


A    VISIT    FROM    THE    GOVERNOR.  81 

Captain  Holmes.  His  desire  to  discover  where  Franklin  had  gone. 

fro  between  Boston  and  the  Delaware  River.  This  Captain 
Holmes  knew  all  about  Franklin's  running  away,  and  was  very- 
desirous  of  finding  out  where  he  was.  So,  when  he  got  to  New- 
castle, on  the  next  voyage  that  he  made  after  Franklin  disappeared 
from  Boston,  he  sent  up  to  Philadelphia  to  make  inquiries  wheth- 
er there  was  a  young  man  named  Franklin  in  either  of  the  print- 
ing-offices there.  In  answer  to  his  inquiries,  he  learned  that  there 
was.  Captain  Holmes,  having  thus  learned  his  brother-in-law's 
address,  wrote  a  letter  to  him  to  try  to  persuade  him  to  go  back  to 
Boston  again.  He  told  him  in  this  letter  that  his  father  and 
mother,  and  all  his  friends  in  Boston,  were  very  greatly  grieved  at 
his  having  gone  off  in  so  abrupt  and  stealthy  a  manner,  but  that 
they  did  not  harbor  any  ill  feeling  against  him  on  that  account ;  on 
the  other  hand,  they  desired  very  earnestly  that  he  should  return. 
Captain  Holmes  assured  him  that,  if  he  would  return,  his  friends 
would  forget  the  past,  and  that  if  he  would  go  back  to  his  broth- 
er's office,  he  should  have  no  further  cause  of  complaint  there,  but 
that  every  thing  should  be  arranged  to  his  mind. 

When  Franklin  received  this  letter,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  a 
long  and  full  reply  to  it.  He  thanked  Captain  Holmes  for  the 
kind  interest  in  him  that  his  letter  expressed,  but  said  that  he  could 
not  on  any  account  consent  to  go  back  to  Boston.  He  then  made 
a  statement  of  the  whole  case,  describing  the  harsh  treatment  that 
he  had  received  from  his  brother,  and  stating  the  other  reasons 
which  induced  him  to  come  away.  The  letter  was  written  so 
well,  and  was  expressed  in  so  clear,  lucid,  and  forcible  a  manner, 
that  it  could  not  fail  of  giving  a  very  favorable  idea  of  the  writer 
to  any  one  who  should  read  it. 

Li  <  F       ^ 


82  A    VISIT    FROM    THE    GOVERNOR. 

He  shows  Franklin's  letter  to  the  Governor. 

In  fact,  Captain  Holmes  was  very  much  pleased  with  the  de- 
fense which  his  young  brother-in-law  thus  made. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  governor  of  the  colony,  being  at  New- 
castle about  that  time  on  a  visit  at  Colonel  French's  house,  and 
having  some  business  with  Captain  Holmes,  the  two  men  had  an 
interview  together,  and  in  the  course  of  their  conversation,  while 
talking  over  various  matters,  Captain  Holmes  mentioned  to  the 
governor  that  he  had  a  young  relative  in  Philadelphia,  and,  to 
show  what  a  talented  young  man  he  was,  he  produced  the  letter 
which  Franklin  had  written,  and  gave  it  to  the  governor  to  read. 
The  governor  was  very  much  pleased  with  it,  and  said  that  the 
writer  of  it  was  certainly  a  very  clear-headed  young  man. 

"  He  ought  to  be  helped  forward  and  encouraged,"  said  he. 
"  The  fact  is,"  added  he,  "  I  wish  he  would  set  up  the  printing 
business  for  himself  in  Philadelphia.  Both  the  printers  there  are 
wretched  workmen,  and  if  this  young  Franklin  would  open  an 
office  of  his  own,  he  would  certainly  succeed.  I  should  interest 
myself  for  him,  and  I  could  procure  a  good  deal  of  business  for  his 
office.  I  could  get  him  a  great  deal  of  printing  from  the  govern- 
ment. When  I  return  to  Philadelphia,  I  shall  certainly  call  and 
see  him  on  the  subject." 

It  was  in  accordance  with  this  resolution  that  the  Governor  and 
Colonel  French,  when  the  Governor  returned  to  Philadelphia, 
called  at  Mr.  Keimer's  office,  and  asked  for  Franklin,  in  the  man- 
ner already  described. 

When  the  Governor  came  to  see  Franklin,  in  the  interview 
which  he  had  with  him  at  the  printing-office,  the  favorable  opinion 
which  he  had  formed  of  him  from  the  letter  was  fully  confirmed. 


A    VISIT    FROM    THE    GOVERNOR.  83 


The  Governor's  plan.  The  difficulty. 


So  he  determined  at  once  to  propose  the  plan  to  him  of  setting-  up 
for  himself.  He  did  not  think  it  discreet  to  do  this  in  Mr.  Kei- 
mer's  presence,  for  he,  of  course,  would  be  very  unwilling  to  have 
another  office  opened  in  Philadelphia,  and  this  was  the  reason  why 
the  Governor  invited  Franklin  to  go  with  him  over  to  the  public 
house.  As  soon,  however,  as  Franklin  was  alone  with  him  and 
the  Colonel,  he  proposed  the  plan. 

Franklin  was  very  much  surprised  at  so  unexpected  a  proposi- 
tion, and  although  he  thought  the  Governor  did  him  great  honor  in 
suggesting  it,  he  said  at  once  that  he  did  not  see  how  he  could  car- 
ry it  into  effect  for  the  want  of  the  necessary  capital.  It  required, 
even  in  those  days,  considerable  money  to  set  up  a  printing-office. 
There  were  types  to  be  bought,  and  cases,  and  two  presses,  one 
for  printing  the  sheets,  and  another  for  pressing  them  smooth. 
And  then,  besides  all  this,  it  was  necessary  to  have  money  enough 
to  buy  paper  and  ink,  and  to  pay  the  workmen,  while  any  partic- 
ular job  that  might  be  undertaken  was  in  hand,  because,  of  course, 
the  printer  could  not  expect  to  get  the  pay  for  his  job  until  it  was 
done.  Franklin  knew  all  this  very  well ;  so  he  told  the  Gov- 
ernor that  he  did  not  see  how  he  could  set  up  a  printing-office  at 
present  for  himself.  He  had  no  money — that  is,  only  a  little, 
namely,  what  he  had  earned  by  working  for  Mr.  Keimer,  which 
amounted  to  only  about  fifty  dollars — and  he  did  not  think  that  his 
father  would  be  willing  to  lend  him  any  for  such  a  purpose. 

"  I  think  your  father,  or  some  of  your  friends  in  Boston,  will  fur- 
nish you  with  the  money,"  said  the  Governor,  in  reply.  "I  will 
write  them  a  letter  about  it  myself,  and  you  can  go  to  Boston  and 
carry  it,  and  see  what  they  will  do." 


64  A    VISIT    FROM    THE    GOVERNOR. 

Franklin  decides  to  visit  Boston.  His  conduct  meanwhile. 

Franklin  was  yery  ready  to  adopt  this  plan ;  so  it  was  de- 
termined that  he  should  go  to  Boston  by  the  first  vessel  that  went. 
If  he  had  been  going  only  to  New  York,  it  would  have  been  short- 
er to  go  across  by  land ;  but  as  he  was  going  to  Boston,  it  would 
be  quicker,  cheaper,  and  better  to  make  the  passage  by  water. 

It  was  now  the  month  of  March  Franklin  had  arrived  in  Phila- 
delphia the  autumn  before,  and  he  had  now  been  six  or  seven 
months  in  Mr.  Keimer's  employ.  There  was  no  vessel  to  go  to 
Boston  mitil  April,  and  so  Franklin,  instead  of  being  made  giddy, 
as  some  young  men  would  have  been  with  the  dazzling  prospects 
before  him,  and  with  the  attentions  of  the  Governor,  went  quietly 
on  with  his  work  in  Mr  Keimer's  office,  just  as  usual.  He,  how- 
ever, gave  notice  to  Mr.  Keimer  that  he  intended  going  to  Boston 
by  the  next  vessel  that  sailed,  though  he  did  not  tell  him  what  the 
business  was  which  chiefly  led  him  to  go.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
Governor  saw  him  from  time  to  time,  and  conversed  with  him  on 
the  plan  in  a  very  friendly  manner.  Sometimes  he  even  asked 
Franklin  to  dine  with  him,  and  this  Franklin  justly  considered  a 
very  great  honor. 

And  yet  it  was  the  Governor  himself,  and  not  Franklin,  who  was 
acquiring  the  highest  and  most  lasting  honor  through  the  connection 
which  subsisted  between  them  in  this  transaction.  Franklin  rose 
subsequently  to  such  a  height  of  celebrity  and  renown,  that  his 
memory  sheds  a  halo  of  splendor  over  every  name  connected  with 
his  history,  and  nothing  that  Sir  William  Keith  ever  did  will  be  so 
long  remembered,  and  be  the  means  of  making  his  name  knowTn  so 
extensively,  as  these  simple  acts  of  kindness  w7hich  he  performed 
for  a  poor  and  friendless  printer's  boy 


VISIT    TO    BOSTON.  85 


The  Governor's  motives.  The  voyage. 

I  think  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  real  kindness  and  good- 
will, in  some  measure  at  least,  that  prompted  the  Governor  to  act 
as  he  did  in  this  affair  ;  and  yet  you  will  find  by-and-by,  when  we 
learn  more  of  his  dealings  with  Franklin,  that  you  will  form  a  very 
different  estimate  of  his  character  than  you  would  be  likely  to  en- 
tertain if  the  story  was  to  end  here.  You  will  see  in  the  sequel 
of  this  case  how  intimately  good  and  evil  are  commingled  in  the 
motives  of  action  which  govern  men  in  this  world,  and  in  their  feel- 
ings and  conduct  toward  each  other. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


VISIT     TO     BOSTON. 


At  length  the  time  arrived  for  the  vessel  in  which  Franklin 
had  taken  passage  for  Boston  to  set  sail,  and  so,  bidding  his 
friends  in  Philadelphia  good-by,  and  taking  the  letter  which  the 
Governor  had  written  to  his  father  in  his  pocket,  he  went  on 
board,  and  the  vessel  proceeded  to  sea. 

He  had  a  very  long  passage.  In  fact,  he  was  a  fortnight  in 
getting  to  Boston.  This  prolongation  of  the  voyage  was  owing 
partly  to  head  winds  and  unfavorable  weather,  and  partly  to  varia- 
ous  mishaps  which  occurred  to  the  vessel.  One  of  these  mishaps 
was,  they  got  aground  in  going  down  Delaware  Bay,  and  sprung 
a  leak  in  consequence  of  it  The  leak  was  not  so  great  as  to 
force  them  absolutely  to  return,  and  so  they  concluded  to  go  on, 
and  trust  to  pumping  as  a  means  of  keeping  the  vessel  afloat  till 
they  should  reach  Boston.     They  would  probably  have  got  along 


»6  VISIT    TO    BOSTON. 


Franklin  takes  his  turn  at  the  pumps.  His  return  home. 

very  well,  notwithstanding  this,  if  they  had  had  tolerably  good 
weather ;  but  it  was  very  stormy  and  rough,  and  in  such  boister- 
ous times,  a  vessel  that  is  at  all  disposed  to  be  leaky  becomes 
very  leaky  indeed  ;  for  the  rolling  and  pitching  of  the  vessel 
itself,  and  the  shocks  and  concussions  of  the  waves  in  striking  it, 
operate  to  open  the  seams  and  admit  a  great  deal  of  water.  The 
sailors  in  this  vessel  were  obliged  to  pump  nearly  all  the  way. 
Franklin  took  his  turn  with  them,  though,  as  he  was  only  a  pas- 
senger, he  was  under  no  obligation  to  do  so. 

Captain  Holmes,  the  gentleman  who  had  written  to  Franklin 
from  Newcastle,  had  not  yet  gone  back  to  Boston,  nor  had  he 
written  to  Franklin's  father  to  tell  him  where  his  son  was.  His 
not  writing  was  somewhat  excusable,  for  there  were  scarcely  any 
regular  modes  of  transmitting  letters  in  those  days.  Conse- 
quently, Franklin's  return  took  his  father  and  friends  entirely  by 
surprise.  They  had  not  heard  any  thing  of  him  since  he  went 
away,  and  now,  after  being  absent  all  winter,  he  suddenly  ap- 
peared among  them,  well  dressed,  and  greatly  improved  in  every 
respect,  both  in  person  and  appearance.  There  was  that,  too,  in 
his  air  and  manner  which  plainly  denoted  that  he  was  in  a  condi- 
tion of  great  thrift  and  prosperity. 

His  father  and  mother  were  greatly  pleased  to  see  him. 

After  explaining  where  he  had  been,  and  giving  a  general 
account  of  what  had  befallen  him  during  his  absence,  Franklin 
took  out  the  Governor's  letter,  and  gave  it  to  his  father.  His 
father,  on  reading  it,  was  very  much  surprised,  but  he  did  not 
express  any  opinion  in  respect  to  the  plan  which  the  Governor 
proposed.     In  fact,  the  idea  that  a  boy,  who  was  only  eighteen 


VISIT    TO    BOSTOxV  87 


Franklin's  proposal.  He  goes  to  the  printing-office.  His  reception. 

years  of  age,  and  who  had  run  away  from  home,  and  had  remain- 
ed away  for  seven  months  without  letting  his  parents  know  where 
he  was,  should  come  back  all  at  once  to  ask  his  father  to  furnish 
him  with  money  to  set  up  business  five  hundred  miles  away,  in 
another  country,  as  it  were,  for  himself — was,  it  must  be  confess- 
ed, rather  preposterous. 

After  this  interview  with  his  father  and  mother,  Benjamin  con- 
cluded that  he  would  go  to  the  printing-office  and  pay  a  visit  to 
his  brother  James,  and  to  the  apprentices  and  journeymen  who 
were  his  fellow-workmen.  It  might  have  been  supposed  that, 
having  gone  away  from  his  brother's  by  stealth,  and  in  violation  of 
the  contract  which  he  had  entered  into  with  him  by  his  indentures, 
that  he  would  have  felt  some  sense  of  humiliation  and  shame  in 
seeing  him  again — so  far,  at  least,  as  to  assume  a  modest  and  unas- 
suming demeanor.  But  it  was  not  so.  He  felt,  in  fact,  more  dis- 
posed to  triumph  over  his  brother  than  to  make  any  acknowledg- 
ments or  apologies  to  him,  or  to  manifest  in  any  way  a  sense  of 
having  done  wrong.  So  he  walked  along  the  street  toward  the 
scene  of  his  former  labors  with  a  spirit  of  pride  and  triumph  in 
his  heart,  rather  than  one  of  penitence  and  humility. 

He  was  smartly  dressed,  and  he  entered  the  office  with  a  very 
independent  air  and  bearing.  His  brother  did  not  give  him  a  very 
cordial  reception.  He  looked  at  him  a  moment  when  he  came  in, 
exchanged  some  few  words  with  him,  surveyed  him  haughtily  from 
head  to  foot,  and  then  turned  back  to  his  work  again. 

Franklin  then  went  to  talk  wTith  the  apprentices  and  journey- 
men in  the  office — his  old  companions — and  began  to  tell  them 
about  Philadelphia.     He  said,  among  other  things,  that  at  Phila- 


88 


VISIT    TO    BOSTON, 


Franklin  shows  the  workmen  the  silver  money. 


delphia  they  used  silver  money,  and  not  bank-bills,  as  was  the 
custom  in  Boston,  and,  to  illustrate  the  subject,  he  took  out  a 


handful  of  money  and  showed  them.  They  gazed  at  it  with  great 
interest,  conceiving,  undoubtedly,  a  very  high  idea  of  the  prosper- 
ity and  thrift  of  their  ancient  comrade,  from  seeing  that  his  pockets 
were  so  full  of  money.  Observe  the  expression  of  satisfaction  and 
self-complacency  on  Franklin's  countenance  while  he  is  making 
this  display,  and  the  curiosity  and  interest  which  the  workmen  mani- 
fest. The  figure  in  the  background  represents  Franklin's  brother, 
who  is  looking  on  with  a  haughty  and  sullen  countenance.* 

*  We  see  in  this  engraving  the  manner  in  which  the  balls,  that  were  described 
some  pages  back,  are  held  by  the  workmen  when  they  are  working  them  together 
to  distribute  the  ink  evenly  upon  them,  before  inking  the  types  in  the  form. 


VISIT    TO    BOSTON.  89 


The  difficulty  between  James  and  Benjamin  continues. 


In  fact,  Mr.  James  Franklin  was  greatly  displeased  with  Ben- 
jamin's demeanor  on  this  occasion,  and  Benjamin  was  greatly  dis- 
pleased with  his.  It  is  not  probable  that  either  were  at  all  dis- 
posed, as  they  ought  to  have  been,  to  manifest  a  conciliatory  and 
forgiving  disposition,  and  the  more  morose  and  sullen  Mr.  James 
Franklin  was,  the  more  free,  and  easy,  and  independent  Benjamin 
became.  Finally,  he  gave  the  workmen  a  dollar  for  a  drink  in  an 
ostentatious  manner,  by  way  of  showing  his  munificence  and  su- 
periority, and  then  went  away  with  an  air  of  triumph. 

His  brother  was  very  much  offended  with  him. 

Some  days  passed  away,  during  which  Franklin's  father  said 
nothing  about  the  letter  which  he  had  received  from  the  Governor, 
and  gave  no  intimation  of  what  he  intended  to  do  in  respect  to  fur- 
nishing his  son  with  money  to  establish  his  printing-office.  At 
length,  Captain  Holmes  arrived  in  Boston,  and  Mr.  Franklin  asked 
him  what  sort  of  a  man  Governor  Keith  was.  Captain  Holmes 
gave  a  very  favorable  account  of  him. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Franklin,  "that  he  must  be  a  man 
of  small  discretion,  to  think  of  setting  up  a  boy  in  business  for  him- 
self as  a  printer — a  boy  who  wTants  three  years  yet  of  being  of  age." 

Franklin  was  eighteen  at  this  time,  and  he  would  not  be  of  age 
until  he  was  twenty-one. 

To  this  Captain  Holmes  replied  that  it  was  true  that  Franklin 
was  young,  but  then  he  was  possessed  of  a  great  deal  of  energy 
and  efficiency  of  character,  and  he  had  no  bad  habits  of  any  kind. 
He  wTas  sober,  industrious,  and  frugal,  and  he  was,  moreover,  well 
acquainted  with  the  printing  business  in  all  its  departments,  and  an 
excellent  workman  himself. 


90  VISIT    TO    BOSTON. 


Mr.  Franklin  declines  the  Governor's  proposal. 


"Besides,"  added  the  Captain,  "the  offer  of  assistance  from  the 
Governor  is  a  very  important  circumstance,  and  makes  an  opening 
for  him  of  a  very  favorable  character.  Very  few  young-  men  could 
hope  to  be  so  fortunate  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  such  a  man. 
In  fact,  the  business  which  it  would  be  in  the  power  of  the  Gov- 
ernor to  put  into  his  hands  will  almost,  of  itself,  insure  his  suc- 
cess." 

Mr.  Franklin  shook  his  head,  and  replied  that  he  was  decidedly 
against  the  proposal.  So  he  wrote  a  civil  letter  to  the  Governor, 
thanking  him  for  the  interest  which  he  had  taken  in  his  son,  but 
saying  that  he  thought  him  too  young  to  commence  business  on 
his  own  account,  especially  as  it  would  require  the  expenditure  of 
so  large  a  sum  of  money.  He  also  communicated  his  decision  to 
his  son. 

Thus  Franklin  found  himself  disappointed  in  the  object  for  which 
he  had  come  to  Boston,  and  was  obliged  to  give  up  his  plan. 

Mr.  James  Franklin  had,  of  course,  no  legal  power  over  Benja- 
min, since  he  had  canceled  the  indentures  in  the  manner  already 
explained ;  and  though  he  had  claimed  that  Benjamin  was  bound 
in  honor  to  stay  and  work  with  him  till  he  came  of  age,  Benjamin 
insisted  that  he  was  not  so  bound,  being  released,  as  he  maintained, 
from  all  obligation  by  the  harsh  and  cruel  manner  in  which  his 
brother  had  treated  him.  And  now,  moreover,  Mr.  James  Franklin 
did  not  wish  to  have  Benjamin  come  back.  "Benjamin  had  be- 
haved," he  said,  "in  so  insulting  a  manner  when  he  came  into  the 
office,  treating  him  as  he  did  so  disrespectfully  before  all  his  work- 
men, that  he  never  could  forget  or  forgive  it."  Mr.  Franklin,  the 
father,  did  all  he  could  to  pacify  James,  but  in  vain  ;  and,  finally, 


VISIT    TO    BOSTOjS.  91 


He  allows  his  son  to  return  to  Philadelphia. 


he  gave  up  all  hope  of  having  the  two  brothers  live  together  in 
harmony. 

When  he  found  that  reconciliation  was  hopeless,  he  told  Benja- 
min that,  if  he  chose  to  go  back  to  Philadelphia  and  work  for  Mr. 
Keimer  again,  he  might  go,  since  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  for 
him  to  do  in  Boston.  His  father  would  have  had  a  right  to  forbid 
his  going,  if  he  had  been  so  disposed,  for,  although  Benjamin  had 
been  released  legally  from  all  obligation  to  his  brother,  his  obliga- 
tion to  obey  his  father  still  remained,  and  would  remain  until  he 
was  twenty-one.     His  father,  however,  did  not  object  to  his  going. 

"  I  am  very  glad  indeed,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  got  along  so 
well  in  Philadelphia,  and  that  you  have  been  so  industrious  and 
careful  of  your  money  as  to  be  able  to  equip  yourself  thus  com- 
fortably in  so  short  a  time.  And  now,  when  you  go  back,  endeavor 
to  behave  respectfully  to  the  people  there,  so  as  to  obtain  their  es- 
teem, and  not  talk  proudly  and  impertinently  to  your  superiors,  or 
lampoon  and  libel  those  who  offend  you,  and  thus  get  their  ill  will." 

Mr.  Franklin  referred  in  this,  probably,  to  the  insubmissive  and 
disrespectful  air  and  bearing  which  Benjamin  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  assuming  toward  his  brother,  and  which  had  been  the 
cause  of  so  much  bitterness  and  sorrow. 

"And  when  you  get  back  to  Philadelphia,"  continued  Mr. 
Franklin,  "  be  prudent  and  economical,  and  save  all  the  money 
you  can,  and,  by  the  time  you  are  twenty-one,  you  will  have 
enough  of  your  own  to  set  you  up  in  business  ;  or,  if  I  find  you 
have  nearly  enough,  I  shall  very  willingly  furnish  you  with  the 
rest.  And  may  God  bless  you,  and  make  you  a  prosperous  and 
happy  man." 


92  THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA. 

Franklin's  preparations  for  his  return. 

Benjamin's  father,  and  also  his  mother,  gave  him  some  gifts  and 
tokens  of  love,  and  bade  him  good-by  ;  and  so  he  set  out  again  on 
his  return  to  Philadelphia. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA. 

Franklin  was  to  sail,  as  before,  in  the  first  instance,  for  New 
York,  intending  to  proceed  thence  to  Philadelphia  by  land.  It 
was  more  convenient  in  those  days  to  go  from  Boston  to  New 
York  by  water,  and  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia  by  land. 

The  vessel  that  he  was  to  sail  in  was  a  sloop,  and,  when  the 
time  arrived  for  her  to  sail,  Franklin  went  on  board  with  all  his 
baggage. 

His  baggage  consisted  chiefly  of  certain  books  which  he  had 
bought  at  Boston,  and  which  he  was  now  taking  back  with  him  to 
Philadelphia.  He  had  brought  a  considerable  sum  of  money  with 
him  when  he  came  to  Boston — money  which  Mr.  Keimer  had  paid 
him  for  the  work  which  he  had  done  for  him  in  the  printing-office. 
This  money  amounted  to  between  twenty  and  thirty  dollars.  A 
considerable  part  of  this  money  Franklin  had  expended  in  buying 
books  in  Boston,  to  take  back  to  Philadelphia,  and  these  were  the 
books  which  he  took  with  him  on  board  the  sloop.  In  addition  to 
these  books  of  his  own,  he  had  some,  too,  which  belonged  to  his 
friend  Collins,  as  will  be  explained  more  fully  by-and-by. 

Besides  the  use  which  he  expected  to  make  of  his  books  in 
Philadelphia,  he  wished  to  read  some  of  them  on  the  voyage. 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA.  93 

He  sets  sail.  Newport. 

The  sloop  set  sail,  and  went  prosperously  down  the  harbor,  and 
thence  stood  off  across  Massachusetts  Bay  toward  the  open  ocean. 
After  getting  far  enough  to  the  eastward  to  clear  Cape  Cod,  the 
sloop  turned  to  the  southward  and  westward,  and,  when  she  got 
opposite  to  Narraganset  Bay,  she  turned  in  toward  the  land.  It 
was  part  of  the  plan  of  her  voyage  to  stop  at  Newport,  which  is  a 
town  situated  near  the  entrance  to  Narraganset  Bay.  There  is  a 
fine  beach  at  Newport,  on  that  part  of  the  shore  which  is  toward 
the  open  sea,  and,  at  the  present  day,  this  beach  is  a  famous  place 
of  resort  in  the  summer  time  for  bathing.  Several  large  hotels 
have  been  built  there  to  accommodate  the  company,  and  a  great 
many  elegant  cottages  along  the  shore.  There  was,  however, 
nothing  of  this  sort  at  Newport  in  Franklin's  time.  The  place 
was  then  only  a  small  sea-port  town,  where  vessels  used  to  come 
in  to  bring  merchandise  for  the  colony  of  Rhode  Island,  or  to  seek 
shelter  from  any  sudden  storm  that  might  threaten  them  when 
passing  along  the  coast. 

Franklin  was  very  glad  that  the  sloop  was  going  into  Newport, 
for  two  reasons  ;  first,  he  wished  to  see  what  sort  of  a  place  it 
was,  and  then,  secondly,  he  had  a  brother  settled  there  whom  he 
wished  to  visit.  This  was  his  brother  John.  He  had  always 
been  on  very  friendly  terms  with  John,  and  he  was  now  very  glad 
of  an  opportunity  of  making  him  a  visit. 

The  sloop  did  not  stop  long  at  Newport,  but  set  sail  again  after 
a  short  time.  There  were  several  new  passengers  that  came  on 
board  there.  Among  these  was  an  elderly  lady,  a  Friend,  who 
was  going  to  Philadelphia,  and  who  took  passage  in  this  sloop  to 
New  York.     She  had  some  servants  with  her,  and  she  seemed  to 


94 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA. 


The  elderly  lady  and  the  two  girls. 


be  a  lady  of  some  consequence.  There  were  also  two  girls,  who 
were  pretty  and  attractive  in  appearance,  but  very  gay  and  very 
forward  in  their  manners.  Franklin  soon  became  acquainted  with 
these  new-comers.  He  assisted  the  elderly  lady  about  coming  on 
board,  and  rendered  her  some  other  similar  services,  such  as  gen- 
tlemanly young  men  are  always  ready  to  afford  to  ladies  traveling 
alone. 

Franklin  also  became  somewhat  acquainted  with  the  two  girls, 
who  seemed  very  ready  to  make  acquaintance  with  him,  and  to 
spend  their  time  in  laughing  and  talking  with  him  about  the  deck. 
At  last  the  elderly  lady,  who  was  very  grateful  to  Franklin  for  the 
kindness  which  he  had  shown  her,  took  an  opportunity  to  caution 
him  privately  against  too  great  familiarity  with  these  girls,  lest  he 
should  get  into  some  difficulty  by  it. 

"Young  man,"  said  she,  "I 
am  concerned  for  thee,  as  thou 
hast  no  friend  with  thee,  and 
seemest  not  to  know  much  of 
the  world,  or  of  the  snares  youth 
is  exposed  to  ;  depend  upon  it, 
these  are  very  bad  women.  I 
can  see  it  by  all  their  actions ; 
and,  if  thou  art  not  upon  thy 
guard,  they  will  draw  thee  into 
some  danger ;  they  are  stran- 
gers to  thee,  and  I  advise  thee, 
in  a  friendly  concern  for  thy  welfare,  to  have  no  acquaintance  with 
them." 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA.  95 

Franklin's  course.  Striking  a  rock. 

In  reply  to  this,  Franklin  thanked  the  lady  for  her  kindness,  but 
he  said  he  did  not  think  that  the  girls  were  bad  girls,  though  he  ad- 
mitted that  they  were  rather  thoughtless  and  gay.  The  lady  then 
told  him  of  certain  things  that  she  had  heard  and  seen  that  had 
escaped  Franklin's  notice,  and  convinced  him  that  her  suspicions 
were  well  founded.  Franklin  then  said  that  he  would  be  more  on 
his  guard,  and  after  this  he  gradually  discontinued  his  intercourse 
with  the  girls ;  and  he  had  afterward,  as  we  shall  see  by-and-by, 
good  reason  to  rejoice  that  he  did  so. 

At  one  time  during  this  voyage  the  whole  company  narrowly 
escaped  being  wrecked,  for  the  sloop  grazed  a  rock,  striking  it  with 
a  heavy,  grumbling  sound,  which  greatly  terrified  all  on  board.  In 
fact,  nothing  is  more  alarming  than  the  concussion  which  is  pro- 
duced by  the  striking  of  a  vessel  upon  rocks  or  banks  of  gravel, 
even  when  she  touches  very  lightly.  It  produces  a  heavy,  thump- 
ing, and  grinding  sound,  far  more  violent  and  frightful  than  any  one 
would  imagine  before  experiencing  it.  And  even  if  the  vessel  gets 
off  immediately,  and  floats  away  into  deep  water,  there  is  always 
a  great  excitement  and  alarm  on  board  for  fear  that  the  rocks  may 
have  made  a  hole  in  the  bottom,  or  started  a  plank,  at  leapt,  so  as 
to  open  a  leak ;  and  the  first  thing  always  is,  in  such  a  case,  to  rush 
to  the  pumps,  and  see  whether  any  water  is  coming  in.  A  ship's 
company  are  always  in  a  great  state  of  commotion  and  terror  aft- 
er striking  a  rock  until  this  point  is  ascertained. 

In  the  case  of  the  sloop,  no  serious  damage  was  done  except 
the  thorough  frightening  of  all  on  board ;  and,  after  getting  away 
from  the  rocks,  the  vessel  proceeded  safely  on  her  voyage.  At 
length  they  reached  New  York.     As  they  were  drawing  near  to 


96  THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA. 


Franklin's  two  escapes. 


the  land,  the  girls  told  Franklin  where  they  lived,  and  invited  him 
to  come  and  see  them.  He  answered  them  civilly,  I  suppose,  but 
he  determined  in  his  own  mind  that  he  would  not  go. 

It  was  very  fortunate  for  him  that  he  took  this  course,  for  as 
soon  as  the  passengers  had  landed,  the  Captain  missed  some  silver 
spoons  from  his  cabin.  He  immediately  suspected  that  these  girls 
had  taken  them.  So  he  sent  to  a  justice,  and  obtained  a  search- 
warrant,  and  then,  taking  an  officer  to  execute  the  warrant,  he 
went  to  the  house  where  the  girls  lived,  and  made  a  search.  The 
stolen  goods  were  found  in  their  possession,  and  the  young  thieves 
were  sent  to  prison. 

When  Franklin  heard  of  this,  he  rejoiced  to  think  what  a  nar- 
row escape  he  had  had.  "If  I  had  continued  my  acquaintance 
with  them,"  said  he,  "  after  I  had  been  advised  to  drop  it,  and  es- 
pecially if  I  had  gone  to  visit  them  at  their  house,  the  officers 
would  have  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  I  was  their  accom- 
plice ;  and,  at  any  rate,  I  might  have  been  sent  to  prison  on  sus- 
picion." 

So  Franklin  had  two  escapes  in  his  voyage  to  New  York,  one 
the  escape  from  shipwreck,  and  the  other  from  being  sent  to  jail 
as  an  accomplice  of  two  thievish  girls.  He  considered  the  last  es- 
cape as  the  most  fortunate  of  the  two,  and  I  think  he  was  right. 
What  a  sad  story  it  would  have  been  to  have  gone  back  to  his  fa- 
ther and  mother  in  Boston,  that  he  had  not  succeeded  in  getting  to 
Philadelphia  at  all,  but  had  been  stopped  at  New  York,  and  sent 
to  jail,  on  suspicion  of  having  been  concerned  with  two  thievish 
girls  in  stealing  spoons  from  the  cabin  of  the  sloop  ! 

There  was  another  danger,  however,  which  Franklin  was  des- 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA.  97 

Collins's  bad  character.  He  goes  to  Philadelphia. 

tined  to  incur  on  this  journey,  in  regard  to  which  he  was  not  so 
fortunate.  In  fact,  he  got  into  very  serious  difficulty  by  it.  It 
was  a  difficulty,  moreover,  which  all  young  men  are  more  or  less 
exposed  to  in  entering  upon  life,  and  which  nearly  all  fall  into  at 
some  time  or  other,  and  suffer  severely  for.  The  case  was  this  : 
You  will  remember  that,  when  Franklin  first  thought  of  leaving 
Boston,  it  was  a  boy  named  Collins  who  planned  his  flight  for  him, 
and  made  the  arrangement  with  the  captain  of  the  sloop  which  con- 
veyed him  away.  This  Collins  now  was  a  very  bright  and  active- 
minded  boy,  but  he  was  a  bad  boy  in  character,  or,  at  any  rate,  he 
was  beginning  to  be  bad,  and  it  was  very  unfortunate  for  Frank- 
lin that  he  ever  had  any  thing  to  do  with  him.  Collins  had  re- 
mained in  Boston  when  Franklin  came  away,  and  had  kept  the 
secret  of  the  place  of  his  friend's  retreat  very  faithfully.  When 
Franklin  went  back  to  Boston,  and  gave  such  accounts  of  his 
success  and  prosperity  at  Philadelphia,  Collins  determined  to  go 
to  Philadelphia  too.  He  accordingly  set  out  from  Boston  on  his 
way  to  Philadelphia  a  short  time  before  Franklin  went,  and  thus, 
when  Franklin  arrived  in  New  York,  he  found  Collins  there.  The 
two  friends  joined  company  when  they  thus  met,  and  made  ar- 
rangements for  traveling  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Philadelphia  to- 
gether. By  thus  associating  himself  with  such  a  young  man  as 
Collins,  Franklin  got  himself  into  a  great  deal  of  difficulty,  and 
brought  upon  himself  much  sorrow.  The  story  of  this  trouble, 
however,  furnishes  so  striking  and  perfect  an  illustration  of  the 
way  in  which  well-meaning  young  men  often  get  drawn  into  diffi- 
culty by  connecting  themselves  with  the  bad,  that  I  think  it  will 
be  best  to  tell  the  whole  story  by  itself  in  the  next  chapter,  and 
n  G 


9b 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA. 


Franklin  goes  to  see  the  Governor. 


The  Governor's  library. 


finish  this  by  giving  an  account  of  the  other  incidents  that  hap- 
pened to  Franklin  on  this  journey. 

One  of  the  most  extraordinary  of  these  incidents  was,  that  while 
Franklin  was  at  New  York,  it  happened  that,  for  the  second  time, 
he  attracted  the  attention  of  a  governor.  It  was  at  this  time  the 
Governor  of  the  colony  of  New  York,  the  other,  Sir  William  Keith, 
having  been  the  Governor  of  Pennsylvania.  The  Governor  of  New 
York  heard  of  Franklin  through  the  captain  of  the  sloop,  in  inquir- 
ing of  him  about  the  passengers  that  he  had  brought  with  him 
from  Boston.  The  Captain  told  him  that  among  the  passengers 
there  was  one  who  had  quite  a  number  of  books  with  him,  and 
who  seemed  to  have  a  remarkable  taste  for  reading  and  study. 
The  Governor,  hearing  this,  asked  the  Captain  to  bring  the  young 
man  to  his  house. 

"  I  have  a  considerable  number  of 
a"!    ;  books  in  my  library,"  said  he,  "and 

if  he  is  so  much  interested  in  books, 
perhaps  he  will  like  to  see  them." 
Franklin  accepted  this  invitation  very 
gladly,  and,  on  going  to  the  Gover- 
nor's house,  was  received  with  great 
civility.  The  Governor  showed  him 
his  library,  and  had  quite  a  long  con- 
versation with  him  in  relation  to  vari- 
ous books  and  authors.  This  adven- 
ture pleased  Franklin  very  much  in- 
deed. 
After  staying  a  short  time  at  New  York,  Franklin  continued  his 


THE    RETURN    TO    PHILADELPHIA. 


99 


He  arrives  at  Philadelphia. 


Return  to  Mr.  Read's. 


journey,  traveling  across  New  Jersey,  as  before,  only  now  he  had 
Collins  in  company.  In  due  time  he  arrived  safely  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  he  immediately  informed  Governor  Keith  of  his  disap- 
pointment in  respect  to  obtaining  money  from  his  father.  The 
Governor  then  formed  another  plan  for  him,  the  nature  of  which  I 
shall  explain  in  the  next  chapter  but  one  to  this,  after  having  fin- 
ished the  story  of  Collins.  The  new  plan,  however,  could  not  be 
executed  immediately,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  it  was  concluded 
best  that  Franklin  should  return  to  his  old  situation  in  Mr.  Keimer's 
printing-office,  and  also  to  his  former  lodgings  at  Mr.  Read's.  He 
was  very  glad  to  see  Deborah  again,  as  he  had  always  liked  her 
company.     He  used  to  read  to  her  in  the  evenings,  and  then  talk 


with  her  about  what  he  had  read,  and  other  things  ;  and  at  last  he 


100  BAD    COMPANY. 


He  proposes  to  Deborah.  Bad  company. 

became  so  much  in  love  with  her,  that  he  asked  her  if  she  would 
be  willing  to  be  his  wife  by-and-by,  when  he  should  get  estab- 
lished in  business,  and  be  ready  to  be  married.  She  did  not  give 
him  a  decided  answer  at  first,  but  Franklin  thought  that  she  prob- 
ably would  consent  after  having  had  time  to  think  of  the  proposal 
a  little  while. 

Franklin  felt  much  more  quiet  and  contented  in  spirit  now  than 
he  had  done  during  his  residence  in  Philadelphia  before.  Then, 
he  was  burdened  with  a  continual  feeling  of  self-reproach  and 
uneasiness  at  the  thought  of  the  anxiety  which  he  knew  that  his 
parents  were  suffering  on  his  account.  They  now  knew  where  he 
was,  and  had  given  their  full  consent  to  the  plans  of  life  which  he 
was  pursuing,  so  that,  in  respect  to  that  point,  his  mind  was  now 
at  ease. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


BAD    COMPANY. 


In  this  chapter  I  am  to  give  you  an  account  of  the  difficulty 
which  Franklin  got  into  through  his  connection  with  Collins. 

Collins  was  a  very  intelligent  and  active  boy,  and  it  was  on  this 
account,  probably,  that  Franklin  first  became  interested  in  him. 
When  they  first  knew  each  other  in  Boston  they  used  to  read  to- 
gether, and  talk  together  about  what  they  had  read,  and  often  they 
would  have  discussions  on  some  point  of  interest  in  politics  or  phi- 
losophy. Once  they  had  quite  a  long  discussion  in  writing,  each 
party  writing  down  the  arguments  on  his  side  of  the  question,  and 


BAD    COMPANY.  101 


Collins's  history.  His  depravity.  His  assistance  to  Franklin. 

sending  his  essay  to  the  other.  The  point  at  issue  was  whether 
girls  ought  to  receive  as  complete  and  finished  an  education  as 
boys.  Collins  thought  they  ought,  Franklin  thought  they  ought 
not. 

Collins  was  a  clerk  in  the  post-office  at  Boston  when  Franklin 
resided  there.  His  duties  at  the  post-office  required  him  to  be  fa- 
miliar with  the  arts  of  reading,  writing,  and  computing  ;  and  per- 
haps, as  there  were  but  very  few  letters  sent  by  mail  in  those  days, 
he  had  considerable  leisure  for  study  and  for  improving  his  mind. 
That  he  must  have  been  quite  a  bold  and  forward  boy  in  respect 
to  bad  actions,  as  well  as  good,  is  pretty  plain  from  the  part  that  he 
took  in  planning  Franklin's  escape  from  Boston  in  the  first  instance, 
and  from  the  readiness  with  which  he  contrived  the  falsehood  to 
tell  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  and  the  cool  assurance  with  which 
he  must  have  told  it  to  the  captain,  to  lead  him  to  believe  it  so  un- 
hesitatingly.    That  could  not  have  been  his  first  falsehood. 

Although  what  Collins  did  in  this  way  was  wrong,  and  indicated 
a  considerable  progress  in  depravity  for  one  so  young,  yet  Franklin 
could  not  but  feel  grateful  to  him  for  the  assistance  which  he  had 
rendered  him  in  so  important  a  crisis.  If  Collins  had  not  assisted 
him  in  that  way,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  could  have  got  away  at 
all.  After  he  was  gone,  too,  Collins  kept  the  secret  in  the  most 
faithful  manner.  He  did  not  tell  any  one  in  Boston  where  Frank- 
lin had  gone,  or  that  he  knew  any  thing  about  it.  Thus  Franklin 
considered  Collins  one  of  his  best  friends,  and,  when  he  came  back 
to  Boston,  one  of  the  first  things  that  he  did  was  to  go  and  see  his 
t)ld  playmate,  and  tell  him  what  good  fortune  he  had  met  with 
while  he  had  been  gone. 


102  BAD    COMPANY. 


His  bad  habits.  His  books.  Franklin's  brother. 

Franklin  found,  during  his  stay  in  Boston,  that  Collins  had  be- 
gun to  get  into  the  habit  of  drinking,  and  was  otherwise  growing 
unsteady,  and  he  ought  to  have  resolved,  as  soon  as  he  learned 
this,  that  he  would  not  have  any  thing  more  to  do  with  him.  Col- 
lins, however,  being  very  much  pleased  with  Franklin's  account  of 
Philadelphia,  and  finding  that  his  character  and  prospects  were 
gradually  deteriorating  in  Boston,  determined  to  go  to  Philadelphia 
himself,  and  Franklin  did  not  discourage  this  idea.  It  is  very 
probable,  he  thought,  that  a  change  of  scene  and  employment 
would  be  beneficial  to  Collins,  and  it  might,  perhaps,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  influence  which  he  himself  might  hope  to  exert  over 
him,  be  the  means  of  reforming  him.  At  any  rate,  it  was  agreed 
that  Collins  should  go  to  Philadelphia,  and  he  accordingly  set  off 
on  the  journey  by  land,  while  Franklin  was  waiting  for  his  father's 
decision  about  the  money.  Collins  left  his  books,  which  were 
quite  a  pretty  collection,  for  Franklin  to  bring  on  with  his  own  by 
water.  It  was  his  having  this  double  quantity  of  books  on  board 
the  sloop  which  particularly  attracted  the  attention  of  the  Captain, 
and  caused  him  to  speak  to  the  Governor  about  him  on  his  arrival 
in  New  York. 

You  recollect,  perhaps,  that  the  sloop  in  which  Franklin  sailed 
from  Boston  to  New  York  put  into  Narraganset  Bay,  and  stopped 
at  Newport  on  the  voyage,  giving  Franklin  an  opportunity  to  make 
a  visit  to  his  brother  John.  Now  this  Mr.  John  Franklin  had  a 
neighbor  in  Newport  named  Mr.  Vernon.  When  Mr.  Vernon 
heard  that  Mr.  John  Franklin's  brother  had  come  to  town  from 
Boston  on  his  way  to  Philadelphia,  he  said  that  he  was  very  glad 
to  hear  it,  as  it  would  give  him  an  opportunity  to  collect  some 


BAD    COMPANY.  103 


Mr.  Vernon's  collection.  Collins  loses  all  his  money  by  gambling. 

money  that  was  due  to  him  by  a  man  who  lived  in  Pennsylvania, 
not  far  from  the  route  by  which  Franklin  would  travel.  So  he 
came  to  see  Benjamin,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  get  the  money 
for  him.  Benjamin  said  that  he  would,  and  Mr.  Vernon  according- 
ly gave  him  a  written  order  to  receive  it. 

"  If  you  get  the  money,"  said  Mr.  Vernon,  "  let  me  know,  and  I 
will  send  you  word  what  to  do  with  it." 

So  Franklin  put  the  order  carefully  away  in  his  pocket-book, 
and  soon  afterward,  bidding  his  brother  and  Mr.  Vernon  good-by, 
he  went  on  board  the  sloop  again,  and  sailed  away. 

Collins  in  the  mean  time  had  gone  on  to  New  York,  and  there 
Franklin,  on  his  arrival  in  that  city,  joined  him. 

He  soon  perceived,  however,  very  much  to  his  sorrow,  that  the 
poor  boy  was  making  rapid  progress  on  the  road  to  ruin.  He  was 
intoxicated  when  Franklin  first  found  him,  and  he  admitted  that  he 
had  been  so,  more  or  less,  ever  since  he  had  been  in  New  York. 
He  had  been  gambling  too,  and  had  lost  nearly  all  his  money. 
He  was  probably  induced  to  begin  to  gamble  by  the  bad  company 
that  he  got  into ;  and  then,  after  gaining  some  and  losing  more,  un- 
til he  found  that  his  supply  was  diminished  so  much  that  he  had 
not  enough  left  to  carry  him  through  to  Philadelphia,  he  grew  des- 
perate, and  gambled  more  than  ever,  in  order  to  recover  what  he 
had  lost.  But,  instead  of  recovering  what  he  had  lost,  he  only  lost 
more  and  more.  This  made  him  drink  more  and  more,  Jo  drown 
the  anguish  of  mind  which  he  endured  when  he  thought  of  his 
guilt  and  folly,  and  of  the  gloomy  prospects  that  were  before  him. 
Thus  he  had  brought  himself  into  a  deplorable  condition.  When 
Franklin  arrived  in  New  York,  he  found  that  Collins  kept  himself 


104  BAD    COMPANY 


Franklin  uses  Mr.  Vernon's  money  to  pay  his  companion's  debts. 

intoxicated  all  the  time,  and  his  money  was  so  nearly  gone  that 
there  was  not  enough  left  to  pay  his  bill  at  the  tavern  where  he 
lodged,  so  that,  if  he  were  to  attempt  to  go  out  of  town,  he  was  in 
danger  of  being  arrested  and  sent  to  jail. 

It  must  have  been  a  very  difficult  question  for  Franklin  to  de- 
cide what  he  ought  to  do  in  such  a  case.  To  leave  Collins  to  his 
fate  in  New  York  would  seem  to  be  cruel,  and  yet  to  pay  his  debts, 
and  attempt  to  convey  him  to  Philadelphia,  was  a  desperate  under- 
taking ;  for  to  save  a  young  man  from  ruin,  who  has  advanced  so 
far  on  the  road  to  it  as  Collins  had  gone,  has  proved,  in  all  coun- 
tries and  ages,  a  very  hopeless  task.  Franklin,  however,  de- 
termined on  making  the  attempt.  So  he  paid  Collins's  bills,  al- 
though by  so  doing  he  left  himself  hardly  enough  to  get  to  Phila- 
delphia. 

In  fact,  there  would  not  have  been  enough  for  them  both,  if 
Franklin  had  not  collected  Mr.  Vernon's  money  by  the  way.  He 
was  extremely  unwilling  to  take  any  of  this  money,  as  it  was  not 
his  own,  and  the  converting  of  it  to  his  own  use  would  be  a  breach 
of  trust.  However,  he  at  length  concluded  to  do  so,  quieting  his 
conscience  by  saying  that  it  was  a  case  of  necessity.  He  thought, 
moreover,  that  as  soon  as  he  and  Collins  should  arrive  in  Phila- 
delphia, they  would  both  get  employment,  and  could  immediately 
restore  the  money  they  had  taken. 

This  in  always  the  way  that  boys  and  young  men  excuse  them- 
selves in  such  a  case. 

Instead,  however,  of  being  able  to  restore  the  money  in  Phila- 
delphia, the  case  grew  worse  and  worse  there,  as  any  one  expe- 
rienced in  the  ways  of  the  world  might  have  told  Franklin  would 


BAD    COMPANY.  10£ 


Collins  lives  at  Mr.  Read's.  More  difficulty. 

have  been  the  case.  Collins,  of  course,  could  not  work  with 
Franklin,  for  he  was  not  a  printer.  He  was  a  clerk,  and  he  tried 
to  get  employment  as  such  in  some  of  the  stores,  but  nobody 
wished  to  employ  him.  Franklin  suspected  that  they  perceived 
by  his  breath,  or  by  something  in  his  air  and  manner,  that  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  drinking.  At  any  rate,  he  could  not  get  any  thing 
to  do.  All  this  time  he  boarded  at  Mr.  Read's,  for  he  had  come 
there  with  Franklin  when  they  first  came  to  town  ;  and  Franklin, 
as  he  had  brought  him  there,  as  it  were,  felt  compelled  to  pay  his 
board.  Mr.  Read  had,  of  course,  received  him  because  he  saw 
that  he  was  Franklin's  friend,  or  at  least  his  companion,  without 
making  any  further  inquiry,  and  it  would  obviously  have  been  very 
dishonorable  for  Franklin  to  allow  Mr.  Read  to  lose  his  pay. 

Besides  the  cost  of  his  board  which  Franklin  had  to  pay,  Col- 
lins came  to  him  from  time  to  time  to  borrow  small  sums  of 
money,  which  money  he  undoubtedly  spent  in  drinking  and  gam- 
bling, and  in  other  guilty  pleasures.  You  may  perhaps  think  that 
Franklin  might  have  refused  these  requests,  at  any  rate.  He 
might  have  been  obliged,  it  may  be  said,  to  pay  his  board,  but 
he  was  not  obliged  to  lend  him  money  to  squander  in  wicked  in- 
dulgences. And  yet,  on  reflection,  we  shall  see  that  there  was 
great  difficulty  and  hazard  in  refusing  him.  So  much  of  Mr.  Ver- 
non's money  was  now  gone,  that  the  only  hope  of  recovering  it 
was  to  get  Collins  at  work,  so  that  he  would  earn  the  means  of 
paying  the  debt.  Franklin  hoped  every  day  that  he  would  get 
into  employment  the  next.  Collins  knew  very  well  that  Franklin 
had  money,  for  he  was  with  him  when  he  collected  Mr.  Vernon's 
debt,  and  Franklin  was  afraid  that,  if  he  absolutelv  refused  to  lend 


106  BAD    COMPANY. 


Franklin  and  Collins  quarrel.  The  final  result. 

any  more,  Collins  would  get  angry,  and  would  refuse  to  pay  what 
he  already  owed.  So  he  thought  it  was  best  to  keep  on  a  little 
longer,  and  risk  a  little  more  of  the  money,  in  hopes  by  that  means 
to  get  back  what  was  already  gone.  Young  and  inexperienced 
persons  often  act  on  this  principle  when  they  get  into  such  diffi- 
culties, but  the  experienced  and  the  wise  seldom  do  so.  They  call 
it  throwing  away  good  money  after  bad. 

Things  went  on  so  for  some  time,  until  at  length  Collins,  grow- 
ing more  and  more  irritable  under  the  influence  of  drink,  began  to 
quarrel  with  Franklin  from  time  to  time,  and  to  become  extremely 
unreasonable.  At  length,  at  one  time  when  they  were  out  upon 
the  water  together,  in  a  boat  on  the  Delaware,  they  came  to  an 
open  rupture,  and  all  the  friendship  between  them  was  thenceforth 
wholly  at  an  end.*  They  scarcely  spoke  to  each  other  from  that 
time.  Before  long,  however,  Collins  received  some  sort  of  an  offer 
to  go  to  the  West  Indies,  and  he  concluded  to  accept  it.  He  prom- 
ised Franklin  that  he  should  pay  him  what  he  owed  him  out  of  the 
first  money  that  he  should  gain,  and  so  he  went  away. 

He  was  never  heard  of  afterward. 

Of  course,  when  Collins  went  away,  he  left  Franklin  in  a  state 
of  extreme  embarrassment  and  anxiety  about  Mr.  Vernon's  money. 

The  end  of  the  business  about  the  money  was,  that  when,  some 
time  afterward,  Mr.  Vernon  wrote  to  him  to  call  upon  him  for  the 
money,  Franklin  did  not  have  it  to  pay.  Instead,  however,  of  pre- 
varicating and  evading  the  demand,  or  making  up  some  false  ex- 
cuse, he  honestly  told  Mr.  Vernon  the  whole  story.     He  expressed 

*  For  a  full  account  of  this  difficulty,  with  a  picture  of  the  boys  in  the  boat  on 
the  Delaware,  see  the  story  of  the  "  Strait  Gate." 


BAD    COMPANY.  107 


Franklin's  honesty.  Practical  lessons. 

great  regret  at  the  thought  of  having  been  guilty  of  such  a  breach 
of  trust,  and  said  that,  if  Mr.  Vernon  would  give  him  time  to  earn 
the  money,  he  would  repay  it  as  soon  as  he  possibly  could  do  so. 

This  honest  statement  of  the  whole  truth  of  the  case  was  the 
best  thing  that  Franklin  could  have  done  to  get  out  of  his  diffi- 
culty. Mr.  Vernon  was  satisfied,  and  gave  him  the  extension 
which  he  asked,  and,  in  due  time,  the  money  was  paid. 

Remember  the  story  of  Franklin  and  Collins,  and  learn  from  it 
four  lessons,  which  will  be  of  great  service  to  you  when  you  grow 
up,  and  go  out  into  the  world  to  act  for  yourselves  as  young  men. 

1 .  Form  no  connections  of  any  kind  with  young  men  of  doubt- 
ful character.  If  you  do,  they  will,  sooner  or  later,  involve  you  in 
entanglements  which  will  embarrass  and  distress  you,  and  from 
which  you  will  find  it  very  difficult  to  get  extricated. 

2.  If  you  have  money  in  your  possession,  especially  money  be- 
longing to  other  people,  keep  the  fact  to  yourself.  Tell  nobody. 
By  making  it  known,  you  invite  the  thieves  that  are  near  you  to 
steal  it,  and  the  spendthrifts  to  borrow  it. 

3.  Never  go  on  lending  good  money  to  a  bad  man,  in  hopes  of 
making  a  bad  debt  a  good  one.  If  a  man  is  unable  to  pay  one 
dollar  on  account  of  his  idleness  and  vice,  he  certainly  can  not 
pay  two. 

4.  If  you  get  into  debt,  or  into  any  other  difficulty,  an  honest, 
open,  and  full  statement  of  the  whole  case  to  those  to  whom  you 
are  responsible  is  a  far  better  and  more  satisfactory  way  of  extri- 
cating yourself  than  any  scheme,  however  cunning,  of  trickery  and 
evasion.  Be  open  and  honest  always,  especially  when  you  find 
that  vou  are  in  the  wrong. 


108  EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND. 


Embarking  for  England. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND. 

When  Franklin,  on  his  return  from  Boston  to  Philadelphia, 
reported  to  the  Governor  the  unfavorable  answer  which  he  had 
received  from  his  father  in  respect  to  his  application  for  money  to 
enable  him  to  set  up  a  printing-office  in  Philadelphia,  the  Gover- 
nor seemed  to  consider  the  refusal  as  a  matter  of  very  little  mo- 
ment. 

"  Very  well,"  said  he  ;  "  if  your  father  is  not  willing  to  furnish 
you  wTith  the  money,  I  will  do  it  myself.  I  will  send  out  to  Lon- 
don by  the  ship,  the  next  time  she  goes,  and  purchase  the  types 
and  the  presses,  and  every  thing  else  that  is  necessary.  You 
need  not  give  yourself  any  concern  about  it." 

The  ship  which  the  Governor  referred  to  in  this  promise  wTas 
the  annual  ship  which  traded  between  Philadelphia  and  London ; 
for  in  those  days  all  the  business  between  Philadelphia  and  England 
was  done  by  means  of  one  ship,  and  that  ship  only  made  one  voy- 
age, to  and  fro,  in  a  year.  The  name  of  this  ship  was  the  Annis. 
She  was  not  to  sail  until  the  fall,  and,  as  it  was  then  midsummer, 
there  was  nothing  that  could  be  done  immediately,  in  respect  to 
carrying  the  Governor's  magnificent  offer  into  effect,  but  to  ar- 
range and  mature  the  plans  that  related  to  them. 

The  Governor  accordingly  requested  Franklin  to  make  out  an 
inventory  of  what  he  would  require  to  set  up  his  printing-office, 
and  Franklin  did  so.     The  amount  of  this  inventory  was  about  a 


EMBARKING   FOR    ENGLAND.  109 

The  Governor's  offer.  Another  voyage. 

hundred  pounds,  which  is  very  nearly  five  hundred  dollars.  Frank- 
lin showed  this  inventory  to  the  Governor,  who,  on  examining  it, 
seemed  well  satisfied  with  it,  and  promised  to  provide  funds  suffi- 
cient for  purchasing  the  articles. 

"But,"  said  he,  when  talking  with  Franklin  on  the  subject  one 
day,  "would  it  not  be  better  for  you  to  go  out  yourself  to  London, 
and  so  select  what  you  require  on  the  spot  ?  You  can  then  see 
for  yourself  what  there  is  there  for  sale,  and  choose  what  will  be 
best  adapted  to  your  purpose." 

Franklin  thought  that  this  was  a  very  good  plan,  and  was  very 
ready  to  accede  to  it. 

"Then,  besides,"  said  the  Governor,  "when  you  are  there,  you 
can  make  acquaintance,  and  establish  correspondence  in  the  book- 
selling and  stationery  line,  and  this  will  be  of  great  service  to  you 
in  your  future  business." 

Franklin  admitted  very  readily  that  these  would  be  great  ad- 
vantages. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Governor;  "let  it  be  so  settled,  then  ;  and 
get  yourself  ready  to  go  with  the  Annis  when  she  sails." 

So  it  was  agreed  that  Franklin  was  to  go  to  London.  The 
making  of  such  a  voyage  was  a  very  great  undertaking  for  one  so 
young. 

During  the  interval  which  was  to  elapse  before  the  sailing  of 
the  vessel,  Franklin  continued  to  work  at  his  trade  in  Mr.  Keimer's 
office,  just  as  he  had  done  before  he  went  to  Boston.  He  used, 
however,  often  to  go  and  visit  the  Governor,  who  received  him 
kindly,  and  paid  him  no  little  attention,  and  always,  when  he  went 
away,  invited  him  to  come  again. 


110  EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND. 

Franklin's  discretion.  Letters  of  introduction. 

All  this  time  Franklin  was  very  careful  to  keep  this,  his  plan  of 
setting-  up  a  printing-office  of  his  own,  entirely  secret,  as  various 
contingencies  might  occur  to  prevent  the  realization  of  it,  and,  in 
that  case,  it  would  be  better  not  to  have  it  known  that  he  had  en- 
tertained any  such  design.  A  weak-minded  boy,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, would  have  talked  to  every  body  about  his  plans,  and 
have  boasted  continually  of  his  intimacy  with  the  Governor,  and 
thus,  perhaps,  have  spoiled  all  by  his  foolish  indiscretion  and  van- 
ity. 

Franklin  had  sev*eral  companions  of  about  his  own  age  at  this 
time  in  Philadelphia,  with  whom  he  was  accustomed  to  read  and 
walk,  and  who  joined  with  him  in  various  plans  for  literary  im- 
provement. One  of  these  young  men,  whose  name  was  Ralph, 
was  afterward  the. means  of  getting  Franklin  into  considerable  dif- 
ficulty, as  we  shall  see  in  the  sequel.  One  might  suppose  that 
Franklin  would  have  learned  sufficient  wisdom  by  his  connection 
with  Collins  to  avoid  such  entanglements  thereafter.  But  it  seems 
he  did  not. 

At  length  the  time  drew  nigh  when  the  vessel  was  to  sail.  The 
Governor  had  promised  to  give  Franklin  a  number  of  letters  of 
introduction  and  recommendation  to  friends  of  his  in  England,  and 
also  a  letter  of  credit,  which  last  was  to  furnish  him  with  the 
means  of  making  his  purchases. 

A  letter  of  introduction  is  one  addressed  to  some  friend,  request- 
ing him  to  show  kindness  and  hospitality  to  the  bearer  of  it,  and  to 
give  him  such  general  advice  and  assistance  as  he  may  require. 

A  letter  of  credit  is  one  addressed  to  a  banker  or  business  agent, 
who  has  money  belonging  to  the  writer  of  it,  requesting  him  to 


EMBARKING  FOR  ENGLAND.  Ill 

Letters  of  credit.  The  two  compared. 

pay  to  the  bearer  of  the  letter  a  certain  sum  named,  or  such  por- 
tion of  it  as  he  may  require. 

Any  man  can  give  letters  of  introduction  to  a  friend  going-  to 
any  country,  provided  that  he  has  acquaintances  in  that  country 
to  whom  it  is  proper  for  him  to  introduce  his  friend. 

But  no  man  can  give  letters  of  credit  unless  there  is  some  one 
there  who  has  money  belonging  to  him,  or  who  is  willing  to  pay 
money  for  him. 

Now  the  governors  of  the  colonies  in  those  days,  and  other  in- 
fluential persons,  were  accustomed  to  keep  their  money  in  a  great 
measure  in  England,  for  it  was  there  that  they  wanted  it  chiefly — 
their  most  important  purchases  being  made  in  London.  So,  when 
their  salaries  were  paid,  the  money  went  into  the  hands  of  their 
agent  in  London,  and  any  other  money  that  was  to  be  paid  to 
them  for  the  rents  of  their  property  in  England,  or  that  was  due  to 
them  in  any  other  way,  was  received  by  him,  and  the  governors 
drew  for  it  as  they  wanted  it  by  letters  of  credit  and  bills  of  ex- 
change 

Sometimes  these  persons  would  require  so  much  money  in  En- 
gland, or  would  draw  so  much  during  some  particular  period,  that 
they  would  expend  the  supply  in  their  banker's  hands.  Then,  be- 
fore they  could  draw  any  more,  it  was  necessary  to  wait  until  a 
new  quarter's  salary  came  in,  or  their  funds  in  the  banker's  hands 
were  replenished  in  some  other  way. 

Now  the  Governor  had  promised  Franklin  both  letters  of  intro- 
duction and  a  letter  of  credit.  It  was  obviously  better  that  Frank- 
lin should  take  a  letter  of  credit  than  to  carry  out  actual  money, 
as  the  letter  could  be  conveyed  with  much  less  trouble  than  a  bag 


112  EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND. 

The  Governor  delays  giving  Franklin  his  letters. 

of  gold,  and  besides,  the  danger  of  losing  the  money  by  accident  or 
by  robbery  was  thereby  avoided.  So  Franklin  was  well  satisfied 
with  the  arrangement  which  the  Governor  proposed  to  make  for 
him,  and  he  considered  himself  very  certainly  and  fully  provided 
for. 

It  seems,  however,  that  he  was  destined  to  be  very  grievously 
disappointed.  Whether  it  was  that  the  Governor  had  seen  some 
reason  to  change  his  mind,  or  at  least  to  doubt  and  hesitate  about 
carrying  out  the  plans  which  he  had  formed  for  his  young  client, 
or  that  his  stock  of  funds  in  the  hands  of  his  banker  in  London 
had  run  low,  or  that  he  had  been  wholly  insincere  and  hypocritical 
in  his  professions  of  friendship  and  offers  of  aid  from  the  beginning, 
or  that  he  had  taken  an  interest  in  Franklin  only  from  good-natured 
caprice,  and  from  the  vanity  of  considering  himself  a  patron,  and 
now,  when  the  time  had  come  to  act  in  earnest,  his  fancy  changed 
— whichever  of  these  may  have  been  the  explanation  of  the  case, 
the  fact  was,  that  when  the  time  arrived  for  the  Annis  to  sail,  the 
Governor  proved  himself  wholly  unable  or  unwilling  to  fulfill  his 
promises.  The  results  of  this  failure  would  not  have  been  so  bad, 
if  the  Governor  had  frankly  told  his  young  charge  that  he  had  al- 
tered his  mind,  and  that  the  voyage  must  be  given  up.  But  he  did 
not  do  this  When  Franklin  called  for  his  letters,  the  Governor 
told  him  that  they  were  not  ready,  and  asked  him  to  call  again. 
He  did  call  again  at  the  appointed  day,  but  still  they  were  not 
ready.  The  Governor,  however,  assured  him  that  they  would  be 
ready  in  time,  and  that  he  need  not  give  himself  any  uneasiness 
about  them,  but  must  go  on  with  his  preparations,  and  get  ready  to 
go  on  board.     At  last  the  time  arrived  for  the  ship  to  sail.     Frank- 


EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND.  113 

Newcastle.  The  sailing  of  a  ship  for  England  a  great  event. 

lin  took  leave  of  his  friends,  sent  his  baggage  on  board,  and  went 
to  the  Governor's  for  the  last  time,  to  receive  his  letters,  and  bid 
his  patron  good-by. 

Instead  of  being  invited  in,  however,  to  see  the  Governor  him- 
self, when  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  his  house,  the  Secretary  came 
out  to  him,  and  told  him  that  the  Governor  was  very  busily  en- 
gaged in  closing  up  his  dispatches  to  go  by  the  ship,  and  could  not 
see  him  then. 

"  But,"  he  added,  "  his  Excellency  is  going  down  to  Newcastle 
by  land,  and  you  can  come  on  shore  and  see  him  there,  for  the, 
ship  is  to  stop  at  Newcastle." 

The  sailing  of  a  ship  from  Philadelphia  to  London,  which  is  now 
an  every  day  and  comparatively  unimportant  occurrence,  was  in 
those  times  a  very  great  event,  and  it  attracted  universal  attention. 
Hundreds  of  people  were  accustomed  to  assemble  on  the  shores  to 
see  the  ship  set  off,  and  those  who  had  friends  on  board,  or  who  had 
important  commercial  or  political  communications  to  make  to 
people  in  England,  would  often  go  down  the  river  to  Newcastle,  so 
as  to  go  on  board  the  ship  there,  in  order  that  they  might  deliver 
their  letters  to  the  captain  at  the  last  moment,  and  take  a  final  fare- 
well of  their  friends  immediately  before  their  departure  from  the 
country.  There  was,  therefore,  nothing  unusual  or  strange  in  the 
Governor's  intending  to  go  to  Newcastle,  and  nothing  in  this  pro- 
posal that  was  calculated  at  all  to  excite  Franklin's  suspicions. 
Newcastle  was  about  forty  miles  below  Philadelphia. 

So  Franklin,  supposing  that  all  would  be  right  in  the  end,  al- 
though he  felt  no  little  uneasiness  at  these  repeated  disappoint- 
ments and  delays,  bade  his  friends  good-by  once  more,  and  em- 
11  H        - 


114 


EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND. 


Franklin  embarks. 


He  bids  Deborah  farewell. 


barked  on  board  the  ship.     He  took  a  very  kind  leave  of  Miss 
Deborah  when  he  went  away  from  her  father's  house.     They  had 


become  engaged  to  be  married,  but  it  was  thought  not  prudent  that 
they  should  be  married  until  after  Franklin  should  have  returned 
from  London,  and  become  established  in  business  for  himself. 

The  ship  weighed  anchor  as  soon  as  all  the  passengers  were  on 
board,  and  went  slowly  down  the  river  to  Newcastle.  Newcastle 
lies,  you  will  recollect,  about  forty  miles  below  Philadelphia,  not 


EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND.  1  J  5 

The  governor  promises  to  send  Franklin's  letters  to  the  ship.  Mr.  H&milton. 

far  from  the  head  of  Delaware  Bay.  It  is  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river  from  Philadelphia  The  ship  came  to  anchor  m  the  riv- 
er opposite  the  town,  and  Franklin  went  on  shore.  He  found  that 
the  Governor  had  arrived,  but  when  Franklin  went  to  his  lodgings 
to  call  upon  him,  the  Secretary  came  out  again,  and  told  him  that 
he  was  extremely  sorry  to  say  that  the  Governor  could  not  see 
him,  being  then  engaged  in  business  of  great  importance  "But," 
added  he,  "he  will  send  the  letters  to  you  on  board  the  ship." 

So  the  Secretary  bade  Franklin  good-by,  wished  him  a  very 
pleasant  voyage  and  speedy  return,  and  Franklin  went  away.  He 
was  somewhat  puzzled  at  these  strange  proceedings,  but  still  he 
had  no  doubt  that  it  was  all  right,  and  so  he  went  on  board  the 
ship  again  with  good  courage 

The  passengers  who  had  taken  berths  on  board  the  Annis  were 
the  following  persons : 

First,  there  were  a  certain  Mr.  Hamilton  and  his  son.  Mr. 
Hamilton  was  a  distinguished  lawyer  of  Philadelphia.  He  en- 
gaged passage  in  the  ship,  and  sent  on  board  a  great  supply  of 
provisions  and  stores  for  the  voyage  ;  but  he  did  not  go  after  all, 
for,  just  before  the  vessel  was  to  sail,  there  came  down  a  message 
to  him  from  Philadelphia  to  say  that  he  was  wanted  to  plead  a 
very  important  law  case  that  had  arisen  there  suddenly,  about  a 
vessel  that  had  been  seized,  and  the  parties  who  wished  to  engage 
hini  offered  him  so  large  a  fee  that  he  concluded  to  give  up  his 
voyage.  So  he  gave  the  rest  of  the  passengers  permission  to  use 
the  provisions  and  stores  that  he  had  put  on  board,  and  which  it 
was  now  too  late  to  put  on  shore  again,  and  he  and  his  son  went 
back  to  Philadelphia. 


116  EMBARKING  FOR  ENGLAND. 


The  passengers  The  steerage  and  cabin  compared. 

Another  passenger  was  Mr,  Denham,  a  Friend,  and  a  Philadel- 
phia merchant.  Mr.  Denham  and  Franklin  became  quite  inti- 
mately acquainted  during  this  voyage,  and  their  friendship  con- 
tinued afterward  as  long  as  Mr.  Denham  lived.  We  shall  hear 
more  about  this  gentleman  in  the  sequel. 

There  were  two  other  passengers,  named  Oniam  and  Russel. 
They  were  the  masters  of  an  iron  foundry  in  Philadelphia,  and 
were  going  out  to  England  on  business  connected  with  their 
works. 

Franklin's  friend  Ralph,  the  young  man  who  has  already  been 
mentioned,  was  also  a  passenger. 

As  soon  as  he  learned  that  Franklin  was  going  to  England,  he 
determined  to  accompany  him  on  the  voyage.  The  reasons  which 
led  him  to  do  this  will  be  explained  by-and-by,  when  we  come  to 
speak  more  particularly  of  Franklin's  connection  with  this  young 
man. 

The  gentlemen  passengers  above  named  had  taken  all  the 
berths  in  the  cabin,  so  that  there  was  no  room  for  Franklin  and 
Ralph  there.  The  two  young  men  were  obliged,  therefore,  to 
take  berths  in  the  steerage.  The  steerage  is  a  part  of  the  ship 
far  less  convenient  and  comfortable  than  the  cabin,  and  it  is  gen- 
erally taken  by  an  inferior  class  of  passengers.  They  are  called 
steerage  passengers  usually,  and  the  cabin  passengers  very  often 
look  down  upon  them  as  to  persons  of  an  entirely  subordinate 
rank  in  life. 

The  people  who  had  engaged  the  cabin  berths  were  at  first 
disposed  to  treat  Franklin  and  Ralph  in  this  way,  thinking  that 
they  were  probably  poor  young  men  who   occupied  some  very 


EMBARKING    FOR    ENGLAND.  117 

Colonel  French  brings  the  dispatches. 

humble  position  in  life.  At  length,  however,  Colonel  French 
came  on  board  the  ship.  Colonel  French,  it  will  be  recollected, 
was  the  friend  of  the  Governor,  the  gentleman  who  had  accom- 
panied him  on  his  first  visit  to  Franklin  in  Mr.  Keimer's  office. 
He  came  on  board  the  ship  now  to  bring  the  letters  and  dispatches 
which  the  Governor  had  prepared,  and  which  the  captain  of  the 
ship  was  to  take  to  England  As  soon  as  he  saw  Franklin,  he 
went  to  him  and  accosted  him  in  a  very  cordial  and  friendly  man- 
ner, much  to  the  surprise  of  all  the  cabin  passengers.  They  im- 
mediately concluded  that  a  young  man,  for  whom  such  a  function- 
ary as  the  Colonel  entertained  so  high  a  regard,  must  be  a  person 
of  some  consequence*,  and  they  immediately  began  to  treat  both 
Franklin  and  Ralph  with  much  more  respect  and  consideration 
than  before.  In  fact,  when  it  was  ascertained  that  Mr.  Hamilton 
and  his  son  had  concluded  not  to  proceed  on  the  voyage,  and  that, 
consequently,  the  berths  which  they  had  taken  were  at  liberty, 
they  sent  to  inform  Franklin  and  Ralph  of  the  fact,  and  to  invite 
them  into  the  cabin.  The  young  men  very  gladly  accepted  this 
invitation,  and  so  they  were  soon  established  in  very  comfortable 
quarters,  and  on  a  footing  of  equality  with  the  other  passengers. 

Soon  after  Colonel  French  had  delivered  his  letters  and  dis- 
patches, Franklin  told  the  Captain  that  there  were  some  among 
them  intended  for  him,  and  he  asked  leave  to  look  over  the  parcel 
and  take  his  letters  out  They  were  letters  of  introduction,  he 
said,  and  a  letter  of  credit,  which  the  Governor  had  intended  that 
he  should  deliver  personally  in  London.  The  Captain  said  that 
the  Governor's  letters  had  been  put  into  the  great  letter-bag  in 
his  cabin,  with  all  the  other  letters  thaji  were  going  to  England. 


118  LONDON. 


The  ship  sets  sail.  Franklin  examines  the  letters. 

and  that  he  could  not  conveniently  get  at  them  then,  in  the  midst 
of  the  bustle  of  weighing  anchor  and  setting  sail. 

"But,"  said  he,  "when  we  get  fairly  out  to  sea,  and  become 
somewhat  settled  on  board  ship,  you  will  have  plenty  of  time. 
You  can  then  look  over  all  the  letters,  and  take  out  such  as  you 
find  are  intended  for  you." 

Franklin  was  satisfied  with  this  arrangement,  and  so  dismissed 
all  care  and  concern  about  his  letters  from  his  mind.  The  sailors 
hoisted  the  anchor  and  spread  the  sails,  and  the  ship  passed  down 
the  river  into  Delaware  Bay,  and  thence  out  between  the  Capes  of 
the  Delaware  into  the  open  sea,  and  thus  commenced  her  voyage. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

LONDON. 

The  passage  of  the  ship  Annis,  on  this  occasion,  was  a  very 
rough  and  uncomfortable  one,  for  it  was  late  in  the  season  when 
she  sailed,  and  the  wind  was  ahead  and  the  sea  was  boisterous 
nearly  all  the  way.  In  consequence  chiefly  of  this  bad  weather, 
and  of  the  sea-sickness  which  resulted  from  it,  Franklin  had  no 
good  opportunity  to  look  over  the  letters  in  the  Captain's  letter- 
bag  till  the  ship  entered  the  English  Channel.  As  the  time  of 
landing  was  then,  of  course,  close  at  hand,  the  business  could  no 
longer  be  delayed,  and  Franklin  accordingly  asked  the  Captain  to 
allow  him  to  examine  the  contents  of  the  bag.  So  the  Captain 
gave  him  the  letters,  and  Franklin  spread  them  out  on  the  cabin 
table  and  looked  them  over. 


LONDON.  119 

His  disappointment.  He  arrives  at  London. 

He  expected  to  find  that  those  which  were  intended  for  him 
would  have  been  inclosed  in  envelopes  addressed  to  him,  or,  if  not, 
that  at  least  his  name  would  have  been  put  upon  the  corners  of 
them  ;  but,  to  his  surprise  and  disappointment,  he  found  that  there 
were  no  letters  marked  for  him  in  any  way.  He  still  had  no  doubt 
that  the  Governor  had  written  letters  of  introduction  and  a  letter 
of  credit  for  him,  and  that  these  letters  were  among  the  rest  in  the 
bag.  The  difficulty  was  to  find  out  which  they  were.  So  he  looked 
over  all  the  letters  again  very  carefully,  to  see  if  he  could  ascer- 
tain from  the  handwriting,  or  by  other  indications,  which  were  his. 

He  selected  six  or  seven  which  he  thought  must  be  his  ;  or, 
rather,  if  they  were  not  all  his,  he  felt  confident  that  his  letters, 
if  there  were  any  for  him,  must  be  among  these.  He  judged 
partly  from  the  handwriting  on  the  outside  of  the  letters,  which 
seemed  to  him  to  resemble  the  writing  of  the  Governor,  and  partly 
by  the  persons  to  whom  the  letters  were  addressed.  One  was  to 
a  certain  stationer,  and  another  to  the  King's  printer. 

"  These  two  must  certainly  be  mine,"  thought  Franklin. 

He  concluded,  on  the  whole,  to  take  all  the  letters  that  he  had 
laid  out. 

"  If  any  of  them  should  not  be  mine,"  thought  he  to  himself, 
"my  taking  them  will  do  no  harm,  for  I  shall  deliver  all  as  soon 
as  I  land,  and  so  each  man  will  get  his  letter  just  as  soon  as  if  I 
were  to  leave  them  in  the  bag." 

Franklin  was  mistaken  in  supposing  that  any  of  these  letters 
were  his.  They  were  none  of  them  his.  The  faithless  Governor 
had  not  written  him  any  letters  at  all. 

At  length  the  ship  arrived  in  London,  and  the  passengers  landed. 


120  LONDON. 

Appearance  of  London.  The  shipping. 


The  scene  which  presents  itself  to  the  eye  of  an  American  boy, 
on  landing  in  London  for  the  first  time,  is  extremely  bewildering. 
The  ship,  in  approaching-  the  city,  of  course  comes  up  the  River 
Thames,  which,  though  quite  a  wide  river,  is  so  crowded  with 
ships,  brigs,  and  every  other  kind  of  vessel,  that  it  is  quite  difficult 
for  any  one  newly  arrived  to  make  their  way  among  them.  Be- 
sides these  vessels,  there  were  in  those  days  an  innumerable  mul- 
titude of  wherries,  which  were  busily  plying  in  all  directions  to  and 
fro,  from  ship  to  ship,  or  from  one  side  of  the  river  to  another. 

The  scene  presented  to  view  in  the  streets  was,  in  some  respects, 
even  still  more  bewildering.  The  crowded  sidewalks,  the  infinite 
number  and  variety  of  vehicles,  the  endless  maze  of  streets,  the 
rows  of  massive  warehouses,  the  spires,  and  domes,  and  columns 
which  were  seen  rising  here  and  there  from  among  the  other  build- 
ings of  the  city,  and,  above  all,  the  thundering  din,  which  sounded, 
incessantly,  like  the  roaring  of  a  cataract,  must  have  wellnigh 
overwhelmed  our  young  adventurer  with  wonder. 

Through  the  midst  of  this  scene  Franklin  and  his  companion 
landed  and  proceeded  to  an  inn.  As  soon  as  they  were  comfort- 
ably established,  Franklin  dressed  himself  neatly  and  went  to  de- 
liver his  letters.  The  first  one  that  he  took  was  the  one  address- 
ed to  the  stationer.  Now  it  happened  that  this  letter,  notwith- 
standing the  appearance  of  the  handwriting,  had  not  been  written 
by  the  Governor,  but  was  the  production  of  a  young  lawyer  of 
Philadelphia  named  Riddlesden.  This  Riddlesden,  it  seems,  was 
quite  an  unprincipled  man,  and  though  he  had  formerly  had  some 
dealings  with  the  stationer,  he  had  at  last  been  found  out,  and  the 
stationer  had  determined  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him. 


121 


The  stationer's  reception  of  Franklin. 


So,  when  Franklin  went  into  the  stationer's  shop,  and  delivered 
the  letter,  he  expected  to  receive  a  very  cordial  greeting  from  the 
stationer  as  soon  as  he  should  have  an  opportunity  to  inspect  the 
contents  of  it.  Instead  of  this,  the  stationer  just  opened  the  letter, 
glanced  at  the  signature,  and  then  immediately  said, 

"Oh  !  this  is  from  Riddlesden  ;"  and,  without  stopping  to  read 
any  thing  more,  he  put  the  letter  back  into  Franklin's  hands, 
adding, 

"  I  have  lately  found  that  Riddlesden  to  be  a  complete  rascal, 


and  I  will  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him,  nor  receive  any  let- 
ters from  him." 

Franklin  was  quite  confounded  at  hearing  these  words.     He 
had  confidently  believed  that  this  must  have  been  a  letter  from 


122  LONDON. 


Franklin  alone  in  a  strange  city.  He  asks  advice  of  Mr.  Denham. 

the  Governor,  introducing  him  to  the  stationer,  and,  being  disap- 
pointed in  this  case,  he  began  to  doubt  in  respect  to  all  the  other 
letters.  He,  however,  proceeded  to  deliver  them  to  the  persons 
to  whom  they  were  addressed  ;  but  it  proved  that  they  had  none 
of  them  been  written  by  the  Governor,  and  none  of  them  made 
any  mention  of  him. 

Franklin  was  at  first  greatly  perplexed  at  making  this  discovery, 
and  he  did  not  know  what  he  should  do.  He  was  in  a  great  and 
strange  city,  three  thousand  miles  from  home,  without  friends  and 
without  money.  He  had  not  even  paid  his  passage  out,  having 
relied  for  every  thing  on  the  letter  of  credit  which  the  Governor 
had  promised  him. 

But,  though  Franklin  was  thus  without  friends,  without  money, 
and  without  credit,  he  had  still  one  grand  resource  left.  He  had 
a  trade.  He  was  a  good  printer,  and  so,  notwithstanding  the  diffi- 
culties and  dangers  in  which  he  found  himself  involved,  he  was  not, 
after  all,  very  much  cast  down.  He  was,  however,  somewhat  at 
a  loss  to  know  what  it  would  be  best  for  him  to  do,  and  he  con- 
cluded, on  the  whole,  to  go  and  take  the  advice  of  Mr.  Denham, 
the  Philadelphia  merchant  who  had  been  his  fellow-passenger 
and  friend  on  board  the  vessel. 

He  accordingly  went  to  see  Mr.  Denham  at  his  lodgings,  and,  on 
telling  him  the  story,  Mr.  Denham  laughed  quite  heartily. 

"  That  is  exactly  like  Governor  Keith,"  said  he.  "  He  is  always 
full  of  good  promises  to  every  body  that  needs  help,  but  he  never 
fulfills  them.  He  is  a  vain,  self-important,  and  boasting  man,  good- 
natured  enough,  it  is  true,  and  well-meaning,  but  you  can  not  place 
the  least  reliance  on  any  thing  that  he  tells  you.     There  is  no 


LONDON.  123 

Franklin  finds  himself  in  a  situation  of  perplexity.  Mr.  Palmer's. 

probability  that  he  has  written  you  any  letters  whatever,  either  of 
introduction  or  of  credit.  Nor,  if  he  had  written  them,  would  they 
have  been  of  any  use  to  you.  He  has  no  money  in  England,  and 
there  is  nobody  here  who  would  advance  any  money  for  him  on 
any  account." 

Thus  all  young  Franklin's  fine  hopes  and  expectations  fell  to  the 
ground,  and  he  found  himself  thrown  wholly  upon  his  own  resources 
in  a  foreign  land,  where  every  thing  was  new  and  strange  to  him. 

He  asked  Mr.  Denham  what  he  thought  he  had  better  do. 

Mr.  Denham  advised  him  to  get  work,  if  he  could,  in  some  print- 
ing-office. 

"You  can  remain  here  for  a  time,"  said  Mr.  Denham,  "and 
work  in  the  printing-offices  of  this  city,  and  thus  you  will  become 
acquainted  with  the  improvements  which  have  been  made,  and 
make  progress  yourself  in  the  art,  so  as  to  set  up  with  greater  ad- 
vantage when  you  go  back  to  Philadelphia." 

Franklin  thought  that  this  was  very  good  advice.  He  imme- 
diately began  to  make  inquiry  among  the  different  printing-offices 
for  work,  and  very  soon  made  an  engagement  with  a  man  named 
Palmer,  and  went  to  work  at  once  in  his  office. 

Mr.  Palmer's  establishment  was  not  a  very  large  one,  and  the 
wages  paid  to  the  journeymen  who  worked  in  it  were  not  high. 
Franklin  thought,  however,  that  it  would  be  better  to  go  there,  for 
a  time  at  least,  until  he  could  find  some  more  favorable  opening, 
rather  than  to  be  idle. 

Fortunately,  there  was  a  book-store  next  door  to  Mr.  Palmer's 
printing-office.  The  man  who  kept  this  book-store  was  named 
Wilcox.     Franklin  went  into  this  book-store,  and  began  to  look  at 


124 


RALPH. 


Franklin's  prospects. 


Ralph. 


the  books,  and  in  so  doing  he  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Wilcox. 

He  told  Mr.  Wilcox  who  he  was,  and 
how  he  came  to  be  in  London,  and 
Mr.  Wilcox  was  so  much  interested 
in  him  on  account  of  his  frank  and 
agreeable  manners,  and  his  intelli- 
gent conversation,  that  he  gave  him 
leave  to  take  any  of  his  books  to  read, 
on  condition  that  he  returned  them 
again  when  he  had  done  with  them. 
This  pleased  Franklin  very  much. 
Thus  he  was  very  fully  provided  for 
in  every  respect.  He  had  good  and 
profitable  employment  during  the 
day  in  the  printing-office,  and  was  furnished  with  the  means  of  in- 
tellectual occupation  for  the  evening,  in  the  books  which  he  bor- 
rowed at  the  book-store.  In  a  word,  his  condition  and  prospects 
were  very  good,  and  he  would  have  done  very  well  if  it  had  not  been 
for  his  connection  with  Ralph.  The  difficulties  which  he  got  into 
on  this  account  will  be  made  the  subject  of  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

RALPH. 


Ralph,  though  he  was  still  a  young  man  when  Franklin  became 
acquainted  with  him  in  Philadelphia,  was  married,  and  he  had  one 
child.     He  was  a  very  intelligent  and  well-informed  man,  but  un- 


125 


Ralph's  character. 


His  resolution  to  become  a  poet. 


principled,  and  somewhat   inclined  to   idleness    and  dissipation 
This  made  him  a  very  dangerous  companion. 

He  was,  moreover,  as  such  persons  often  are,  a  very  agreeable 
companion.  He  was  very  ingenious,  and  his  conversation  was  full 
of  vivacity  and  wTit.  Franklin  liked  his  company  very  much  while 
he  lived  in  Philadelphia.  He  was  accustomed  often  on  Sundays 
to  make  excursions  with  him  into  the  country,  along  the  banks  of 
the  Delaware  River.  Sometimes  the  two  friends  would  go  on  foot 
on  the  land,  and  sometimes  in  a  boat  on  the  water.  They  would 
take  books  with  them,  and  when  they  were  tired  of  walking  they 
would  sit  down  under  the  trees  and  read,  pausing  now  and  then  in 
their  reading  to  talk  about  the  sentiment  of  their  author,  or  the 

language  in  which  it  was  ex- 
pressed. In  these  conversa- 
tions, Ralph  displayed  so  much 
brilliancy,  vivacity,  and  wit,  that 
Franklin  found  him  a  very  fas- 
cinating companion. 

Ralph  was  very  fond  of  poet- 
ry, and  at  length  he  began  to 
write  verses  himself.  He  was 
pleased  with  the  success  of  his 
first  efforts,  and  soon  formed  a 
resolution  to  become  a  poet  by 
profession.  Franklin  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  this.  He 
told  him  that  writing  poetry  was  a  very  agreeable  pastime  for  lei- 
sure hours,  but  that  it  was  very  unwise  to  look  forward  to  it  as  the 
business  of  life.     But  Ralph  could  not  be  diverted  from  his  purpose. 


12fi  RALPH. 

Ralph's  abandonment  of  his  wife  and  child. 

Ralph  did  not  live  happily  with  his  wife.  He  not  only  disagreed 
with  her,  but  he  quarreled  also  with  her  family  and  relatives ;  and 
finally,  when  he  learned  that  Franklin  was  going  to  London,  he 
determined  to  go  with  him,  and  abandon  his  wife  and  child.  His 
plan  was  to  let  them  go  home  to  her  father's,  under  the  pretext  that 
he  was  going  to  London  only  for  a  short  time,  and  that  he  would 
soon  return  and  take  them  back  to  his  house  again,  while  his  secret 
intention  was  to  settle  permanently  in  England,  and  never  return. 
He  thought  that  the  prospect  of  attaining  to  fame  and  fortune  as  a 
poet  would  be  greater  in  England  than  in  America,  and  that,  at 
any  rate,  by  leaving  the  country,  he  should  get  free  from  all  fur- 
ther responsibility  and  care  in  respect  to  his  wife  and  child.  In 
justice  to  Franklin,  however,  it  ought  to  be  said,  that  Ralph  did  not 
let  him  know  that,  in  going  to  England,  he  was  intending  to  aban- 
don his  wife  and  child,  and  never  to  return.  If  he  had  done  so, 
Franklin  would  perhaps  have  endeavored  to  prevent  his  friend  from 
acting  in  so  heartless  and  wicked  a  manner. .  Franklin  knew  noth- 
ing of  this  plan  until  he  and  Ralph  reached  London,  and  had  got 
settled  together  in  their  lodgings  there.     Then  Ralph  told  him. 

The  lodgings  which  the  two  friends  engaged  were  very  cheap ; 
they  were  situated  in  an  obscure  part  of  London  called  Little  Brit- 
ain. The  young  men  paid  only  about  a  dollar  a  week  each  to  the 
landlady,  which  shows  that  their  accommodations  must  have  been 
of  a  very  humble  character.  This  was  as  much,  however,  Frank- 
lin thought,  as  they  could  afford. 

For,  although  Franklin  himself  was  pretty  well  provided  for  in 
respect  to  employment,  Ralph  was  wholly  destitute,  as  yet,  of  any 
means  of  support.     He  found  some  relatives  in  London,  but  they 


RALPH.  127 

Ralph's  gentility.  His  different  plans.  Their  failure. 

were  very  poor,  and  could  not  help  him.  He  had  no  money  at  all. 
Nor  had  he  any  trade.  He  could  write  a  handsome  hand,  it  is 
true.  In  fact,  his  business  in  Philadelphia  had  been  that  of  a 
clerk,  so  that  all  he  knew  was  how  to  keep  books  and  copy  letters. 
And  even  if  he  had  been  acquainted  with  any  trade,  it  is  probable 
that  his  ideas  were  too  lofty  and  poetical  to  have  allowed  of  his 
working  at  it.  His  taste  was  for  some  much  more  genteel  occu- 
pation than  working  with  his  hands  in  any  way. 

His  first  plan  was  to  apply  at  the  theatres,  in  order  to  be  em- 
ployed as  an  actor.  He  thought  that  he  had  decided  talents  for 
the  stage,  if  he  could  only  have  an  opportunity  of  displaying  them. 
So  he  went  to  one  of  the  theatres,  and  offered  himself  to  the  man- 
ager. The  manager  heard  him  read  some  passages  from  a  dra- 
matic author,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  by  way  of  trial,  and  then 
told  him  that  he  had  better  give  up  all  thoughts  of  ever  appearing 
on  the  stage,  as  it  was  utterly  impossible  that  he  should  succeed. 
He  had  no  talent  whatever,  the  manager  said,  for  acting. 

Ralph,  somewhat  chagrined  at  this  disappointment,  next  con- 
ceived of  the  idea  of  establishing  a  sort  of  periodical  paper,  to 
appear  once  a  week,  in  which  he  expected  that  his  talents  as  an 
author  would  shine  so  refulgently  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
town,  and  bring  him  a  great  deal  of  fame  and  money.  He  proposed 
his  plan  to  one  or  two  publishers,  but  they  could  not  be  induced 
to  undertake  it. 

All  this  time  Ralph  was  living,  of  course,  at  Franklin's  expense. 
Franklin  was  not  only  obliged  to  pay  for  his  board  and  lodgings, 
but  also  to  lend  him  money,  from  time  to  time,  to  enable  him  to 
pay  his  other  expenses.      Besides  this,  Ralph  enticed  Franklin 


12«  RALPH. 

He  gets  into  difficulty.  His  connection  with  the  milliner. 

away  to  theatres  and  shows,  and  other  public  amusements,  by 
which  a  great  deal  of  useful  time  was  spent,  and  much  money 
wasted.  During  all  this  period  Ralph  was  endeavoring  to  quiet 
Franklin's  uneasiness  by  assuring  him  that  he  should  soon  get 
into  some  profitable  employment,  and  then  he  would  repay  what 
he  owed  him,  and  all  would  go  on  well  again. 

At  length,  however,  the  funds  of  the  two  young  men  had  become 
so  nearly  exhausted,  that  Ralph  began  to  think  he  must  find  some 
employment  or  other,  without  any  longer  delay ;  and  so  he  made 
application  at  the  lawyers'  offices  for  a  situation  as  clerk  to  copy 
deeds  and  letters  ;  but  he  could  not  find  any  vacancy.  He  made 
other  similar  applications  in  other  quarters,  but  all  in  vain,  and 
the  two  friends  were  thus  soon  reduced  to  great  straits.  Frank- 
lin's earnings  would  have  been  abundant  for  himself,  but  they  did 
not  suffice  for  two. 

In  fact,  there  were  three  to  draw  upon  them  ;  for  Ralph,  in  the 
mean  time,  with  the  recklessness  for  which  such  characters  are 
always  noted,  had  formed  a  connection  with  a  young  woman,  a 
milliner,  whom  he  became  acquainted  with  at  their  lodgings,  and 
whom  he  finally  concluded  to  live  with  as  his  wife.  He  could 
not  really  marry  her,  for  he  had  a  wife  already  in  America,  who 
was  still  living.  If  he  had  caused  the  marriage  ceremony  to  have 
been  performed,  it  would  have  been  invalid  ;  and  then,  besides,  by 
so  doing,  he  would  have  rendered  himself  liable  to  a  very  heavy 
punishment  for  the  crime  of  bigamy,  as  it  is  called.  So  he  took 
the  girl  without  marrying  her,  and  went  with  her  to  another  lodg- 
ing, and  lived  with  her  there. 

The  connection  of  Ralph  with  Franklin  ended  at  last  just  as 


RALPH.  129 

Ralph  goes  into  the  country.  Franklin  and  Ralph  quarrel. 

such  affairs  almost  always  end.  Ralph,  after  borrowing  from 
Franklin  until  his  friend's  means  were  entirely  exhausted,  and 
having  expended,  probably,  besides,  all  that  he  could  get  from  the 
unhappy  milliner,  concluded  to  leave  London,  under  pretense  of 
finding  employment  somewhere  in  the  country,  and  promising  to 
send  back  the  amount  which  he  owed  Franklin  as  soon  as  he 
could  possibly  earn  the  money.  In  the  mean  time,  he  left  the 
milliner  and  her  young  child  under  Franklin's  care.  After  he 
had  gone,  Franklin  heard  from  him  from  time  to  time,  his  letters 
containing  long  extracts  from  a  poem  which  he  was  composing, 
but  no  money.  At  last  he  found  cause  to  quarrel  with  Franklin 
about  something  connected  with  the  milliner,  and  he  declared 
that  Franklin  had  behaved  so  unhandsomely  and  improperly,  that 
he  considered  himself  freed  from  all  obligation  to  pay  him  the 
money  that  he  owed  him.  Thus  this  most  unfortunate  friendship 
came  to  an  end.  Franklin,  though  very  much  vexed  and  cha 
grined  to  think  how  grievously  he  had  been  imposed  upon,  was 
very  glad  to  be  relieved  of  his  burden  at  last,  and,  seeing  that  he 
was  now  to  have  only  himself  to  take  care  of,  his  hope  and  his 
courage  revived. 

The  amount  of  money  which  Ralph  owed  Franklin  at  the  time 
of  their  rupture  amounted  to  over  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 
11  I 


130  THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD. 

Franklin  out  of  difficulty.  The  printing-office  described. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD. 

When  Franklin  found  himself  finally  clear  of  his  entanglements 
with  Ralph,  he  immediately  set  at  work  with  new  zeal  and  energy 
to  repair  and  retrieve  the  ground  that  he  had  lost.  He  left  the 
printing-office  in  Little  Britain,  and  made  a  new  engagement  in  a 
larger  establishment,  near  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  The  name  of  his 
new  master  was  Watts. 

In  Mr.  Watts's  printing-office,  as  in  all  others,  there  were  two  de- 
partments, the  composing-room  and  the  press-room — the  one  being 
the  room  where  the  types  were  set  up  and  arranged  for  printing, 
and  the  other  where  the  sheets  of  paper  were  printed  from  them. 
The  pages  of  type,  when  a  sufficient  number  had  been  set  up  for 
one  side  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  were  wedged  up  very  tight  in  an  iron 
frame,  which  had  as  many  compartments  in  it  as  there  were  pages. 
These  frames,  thus  filled,  were  called  forms.  When  the  forms 
were  ready,  they  were  carried  from  the  composing-room  up  to  the 
press-room,  and  there,  being  placed  on  the  presses,  the  sheets  of 
paper  were  printed  from  them.  The  press-work  in  large  establish- 
ments is  now  mostly  done  by  steam-power.  In  Franklin's  time, 
however,  it  was  done  by  hand.  The  men  who  worked  the  presses 
were  called  pressmen.  Those  who  were  employed  in  composing- 
rooms,  setting  up  the  type,  were  called  compositors. 

The  whole  printing-office  was  called  the  chapel.  Printing-offices 
received  that  name  in  England  in  those  days  on  account  of  the  fact 


THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD.  131 

Chapel  laws.  Welcome-money.  The  inveterate  topers. 

that  the  first  printing-office  was  in  a  building  which  had  once  been 
a  chapel.  The  workmen  in  these  offices  had  various  laws,  and 
usages,  and  customs,  established  among  themselves,  which  they 
called  the  chapel  laws. 

One  of  these  laws  was,  that  every  newT-comer  must  pay  five 
shillings — a  sum  which  was  equal  to  about  a  dollar  and  a  quarter 
— for  what  they  called  "welcome-money."  The  money  thus  paid 
by  the  new-comers  was  spent  by  the  workmen  in  drink. 

When  Franklin  entered  Mr.  Watts's  office,  he  went  first  into  the 
press-room,  to  work  one  of  the  presses.  He  paid  his  five  shillings 
welcome-money,  and  the  workmen  drank  it  in  strong  beer. 

He  soon  found,  moreover,  that  all  the  workmen  in  the  office  were 
in  the  habit  of  drinking  a  great  deal  of  this  beer.  There  was  an 
alehouse  near  by,  and  there  was  a  boy  belonging  to  it  always  in 
attendance  at  the  printing-office  to  go  and  get  beer  for  the  work- 
men. Franklin's  companion  at  the  press — for  it  required  two  to 
manage  a  press,  one  to  work  the  balls  and  apply  the  ink,  and  the 
other  to  put  on  the  paper  and  make  the  impression — was  a  most 
inveterate  toper.  He  used  to  drink  a  pint  of  beer  before  break- 
fast, a  pint  at  breakfast  with  his  bread  and  cheese,  a  pint  between 
breakfast  and  dinner,  a  pint  at  dinner,  a  pint  in  the  afternoon  about 
six  o'clock,  and  another  pint  when  he  had  done  his  day's  work. 
Franklin  endeavored  to  convince  this  young  man,  and  also  the 
other  workmen  in  the  office,  that  this  was  a  very  bad  custom. 
They  said  that  they  needed  strong  beer  to  make  them  strong  to  do 
their  work,  for  press-work,  and  the  carrying  about  of  forms  of  type, 
is  very  heavy  work.  But  Franklin  maintained  that  all  the  strength 
which  they  could  derive  from  the  beer  must  be  from  the  nourish- 


13$ 


THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD. 


Franklin's  argument  against  drinking. 


His  strength. 


ment  that  it  contained,  and  that  this  must  depend  upon  the  quan- 
tity of  barley  or  other  grain  employed  in  the  making  of  it,  and  that 
there  must  be  more  of  this  nourishment  in  a  single  pennyworth  of 
bread  than  in  a  whole  quart  of  beer.  In  confirmation  of  his  doc- 
trine, he  let  them  see  that  he,  who  drank  nothing  but  water,  could 


take  two  forms  of  type,  one  in  each  hand,  and  carry  them  up  stairs 
without  any  difficulty — a  feat  which  none  of  the  old  beer-drinkers 
could  perform. 


THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD.  133 


The  bad  effects  of  drinking.  Franklin  in  the  composing-room. 

Besides  undermining  their  health  and  diminishing  their  strength 
by  their  unwholesome  potations,  these  men  had  to  lose  four  or  five 
shillings  out  of  their  wages  every  Saturday,  to  pay  for  the  beer 
they  had  drunk  during  the  week.  This  kept  them  always  poor, 
while  Franklin,  who  saved  this  money,  was  gradually  getting  quite 
a  surplus  on  hand. 

The  men  saw  that  these  things  were  so,  when  Franklin  pointed 
them  out  to  their  attention,  but  still  they  would  not  follow  his  ex- 
ample, at  least  for  some  time.  They  had  become  so  accustomed 
to  the  drink  that  they  could  not  easily  give  it  up.  So  they  laughed 
at  Franklin  for  his  abstinence,  and  called  him  the  ivater  American. 
At  last,  however,  one  after  another  were  convinced  of  the  folly  of 
the  course  which  they  were  pursuing,  and  reformed. 

After  Franklin  had  been  some  time  in  the  press-room,  Mr.  Watts 
wished  to  transfer  him  to  the  composing-room.  Franklin  made  no 
objection  to  this  change,  but,  when  he  entered  the  composing-room, 
the  men  who  were  there  called  upon  him  for  a  new  payment  of 
welcome-money . 

"  No,"  said  Franklin,  "  I  have  paid  my  welcome-money  already. 
I  paid  it  in  the  press-room." 

The  men  replied  that  the  payment  was  only  for  the  press-room, 
and  that  he  must  pay  another  now  on  entering  the  composing-room. 
That,  they  said,  was  according  to  the  chapel  laws.  Franklin,  how- 
ever, still  refused,  and  finally  he  appealed  to  Mr.  Watts  to  know 
whether  he  was  under  any  obligation  to  pay  his  welcome-money 
a  second  time.  Mr.  Watts  said  that  he  was  not,  and  forbade  his 
paying  it. 

The  men,  however,  were  determined  not  to  give  up  the  point. 


134  THE    END    OF   BOYHOOD. 

The  chapel  ghost.  Franklin  pays  the  welcome-money. 

and  so  they  began  teasing  and  tormenting  Franklin  all  in  their 
power,  by  playing  tricks  upon  him  when  he  was  away.  They 
would  mix  up  his  types,  so  as  to  cause  him  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
in  sorting  them  again,  and  knock  down  what  he  had  set  up.  Some- 
times they  would  transpose  the  lines  of  type  on  one  of  his  pages, 
so  as  to  make  nonsense  of  it  all,  and  so  give  him  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  in  finding  out  what  the  difficulty  was.  All  this  was  a  great 
damage  to  Franklin,  and  a  cause  of  loss,  for  each  workman  in  a 
printing-office  is  paid,  not  by  the  day,  but  by  the  amount  of  work 
that  he  gets  done.  When  Franklin  inquired  who  it  was  that  did 
all  this  mischief,  the  rogues  would  tell  him  that  it  was  the  chapel 
ghost.  There  was  a  chapel  ghost,  they  said,  that  came  in  when 
the  workmen  were  away,  and  punished,  by  such  means  as  these, 
the  journeymen  who  would  not  obey  the  chapel  laws. 

Franklin  found,  at  last,  that  it  was  best  for  him  to  yield  to  the 
demand  of  the  workmen,  unjust  as  it  was,  and  so  he  paid  the 
money. 

Cases  of  the  kind  occur  to  all  men  in  passing  through  life,  in 
which  they  are  compelled  to  submit  to  injustice.  When  such 
cases  arise,  the  sooner  we  find  out  that  we  must  submit,  and  so 
give  up  our  resistance,  the  better  it  is.  We  have  a  right  to  resist 
injustice,  when  it  is  in  our  power  to  make  our  resistance  effectual ; 
but  if  this  is  not  in  our  power,  the  sooner  and  the  more  good- 
naturedly  we  yield,  the  more  easily  we  shall  get  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty. If,  for  instance,  in  this  case,  Franklin  had  foreseen  that  he 
would  be  obliged  to  give  up  in  the  end,  he  might  have  said  to  the 
men  in  the  beginning,  "I  think  your  claim  is  unjust;  but,  since 
you  insist  upon  it,  I  shall  submit,  and  pay  the  money."     This 


THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD.  135 

Franklin's  influence.  His  industry  and  diligence. 

would  have  saved  him  a  great  portion  of  the  mortification  which 
he  subsequently  endured  ;  for  it  is  much  more  mortifying  to  one's 
pride  to  have  to  yield  at  last,  after  attempting  to  make  resistance, 
and  finding  one's  self  overcome,  than  it  would  be  to  give  up  at 
once,  without  any  struggle,  in  the  beginning. 

After  this,  Franklin,  being  now  on  good  terms  with  his  brother 
workmen,  rapidly  rose  to  a  high  degree  of  consideration  and  influ- 
ence in  the  office.  He  was  a  very  amusing  and  entertaining  com- 
panion, and  the  journeymen  in  the  office  liked  his  society  very 
much.  Thus  he  aided  them  in  various  ways.  If  they  were  out 
of  money,  he  would  lend  to  them — they  pledging  to  him  the  wages 
which  they  were  to  receive  on  the  next  Saturday  night  for  the 
payment.  He  was  also  very  industrious  and  faithful  in  all  the 
duties  of  the  office,  so  that  he  soon  became  as  great  a  favorite 
with  Mr.  Watts  as  he  was  wTith  the  journeymen.  Many  of  the 
workmen  would  go  off  on  excursions  and  frolics  on  Sundays,  and 
then,  not  feeling  like  returning  to  their  work  on  Monday,  they 
would  stay  away  on  that  day  too.  This  Franklin  never  did.  He 
was,  besides,  a  very  rapid  compositor,  and  was  continually  taking 
pains  to  improve  more  and  more,  so  that,  what  with  his  skill  and 
what  with  his  diligence,  the  work  that  was  put  into  his  hands  was 
generally  done  very  quick  and  very  well.  The  consequence  was, 
that  when  Mr.  Watts  had  any  piece  of  work  that  he  required  to  be 
done  with  special  care  or  with  unusual  dispatch,  he  would  put  it 
into  Franklin's  hands  ;  and  as  this  sort  of  work  was  better  paid 
than  the  other,  Franklin  found  that  his  income  was  increasing  in 
every  way. 

He  was  as  successful,  too,  in  gaining  the  good  opinion  of  those 


136 


THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD. 


Franklin  chooses  his  lodgings. 


His  good  character  at  home. 


who  were  connected  with  him  at  home  as  at  the  office.  The  lodg- 
ings  that  he  and  Ralph  had  taken  at  first  in  Little  Britain  were  too 
far  away  from  Mr.  Watts's  printing-office,  and  so  Franklin  applied 
to  a  woman  who  had  lodgings  nearer.  Her  rooms  were  up  three 
flights  of  stairs,  over  a  great  warehouse.  When  Franklin  applied 
to  her  to  let  a  room  to  him,  she  did  not  give  him  an  answer  imme- 
diately, but  sent  first  to  inquire  about  his  character  at  his  previous 
lodgings.  She  heard  so  good  an  account  of  him  there  that  she 
agreed  to  take  him  on  the  same  terms.     She  was  a  Catholic  worn- 

an,  though  she  had  been  bred  a 
Protestant,  and  she  was  some- 
what advanced  in  years.  She 
was  lame,  so  that  she  very  sel- 
dom went  out,  and  one  reason 
why  she  wished  to  take  a  lodger 
was,  that  it  would  be  pleasanter 
for  her  to  have  a  young  man  to 
sleep  in  the  house,  as  her  family 
consisted  only  of  herself,  and  her 
daughter,  and  a  maid-servant. 

This  woman  was  very  much 
pleased  with  her  lodger  as  soon  as 
she  became  acquainted  with  him, 
and  she  found  him,  besides,  of  very 
little  trouble  in  her  house.  He  always  came  in  in  good  season  at 
night ;  he  never  was  rude  or  noisy ;  he  brought  no  disagreeable  com- 
pany home  with  him ;  and  he  often  amused  the  good  woman  and  her 
daughter  by  talking  to  them  and  reading  to  them  in  the  evenings. 


THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD. 


137 


The  nunnery  in  the  garret. 


Franklin's  economy. 


Franklin's  landlady  had  but  a  very  small  circle  of  acquaintances 
and  friends,  but  there  was  one  among  them  whose  case  was  some- 
what extraordinary.  This  was  a  woman  who  belonged  to  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  had  been  sent  when  young  to  the  Continent 
to  live  in  a  nunnery ;  but,  as  the  climate  did  not  agree  with  her 

there,  she  had  returned  to 
England  ;  and,  since  there 
were  no  nunneries  in  En- 
gland, she  determined  to 
make  a  sort  of  nunnery  for 
herself  by  living  in  a  gar- 
ret, and  devoting  all  her 
time  to  devotion  and  to 
works  of  charity.  Frank- 
lin visited  this  woman  once 
in  her  lonely  home,  and 
found  her  making  gar- 
ments for  the  poor.  She 
seemed  quite  contented  and  happy. 

Franklin  liked  his  lodgings  very  well,  but  after  a  time  he  heard 
of  a  place  where  he  could  have  accommodations  for  two  shillings 
a  week,  instead  of  the  three  and  sixpence  which  he  was  there  pay- 
ing, and,  as  he  was  very  desirous  of  living  in  as  economical  a  man- 
ner as  he  could,  in  order  to  lay  up  money  for  his  future  plans  of 
life,  he  told  his  landlady  that  he  thought  he  ought  to  go  to  the 
new  place.  But  she  said  that  she  could  not  consent  to  his  going 
away  on  any  account,  and  that,  if  he  would  stay,  she  would  take 
him  thereafter  for  even  less  than  the  two  shillings.     She  would 


138  THE    END    OF    BOYHOOD. 


Franklin's  asbestos  purse.  Its  remarkable  qualities.  Sir  Hans  Sloane. 


only  charge  him  one  and  sixpence.  So  Franklin  concluded  to 
stay,  and  he  continued  accordingly  in  these  lodgings  as  long  as  he 
remained  in  London. 

Franklin  seemed  to  have  an  extraordinary  fortune  for  making 
the  acquaintance  of  great  men  during  all  the  early  part  of  his  life. 
Among  other  instances  of  this,  he  was  introduced,  while  he  was  in 
London  at  this  time,  to  a  very  distinguished  naturalist  and  philos- 
opher, named  Sir  Hans  Sloane.  This  gentleman  was  making  a 
collection  of  specimens  of  natural  history,  and  of  curiosities  of  all 
kinds.  Franklin  had  in  his  possession  a  purse  made  of  asbestos. 
Asbestos  is  a  mineral.  It  is  fibrous  in  its  texture,  and  in  some 
specimens  it  is  so  fine  that  it  can  be  spun  into  thread,  and  then 
the  thread  may  be  knit  or  woven  into  cloth.  Now  the  fibre  being 
a  mineral  substance,  and  of  a  kind,  too,  not  destructible  by  any  or- 
dinary degree  of  heat,  the  cloth,  or  the  knitted  fabric  made  from 
it,  may  be  put  into  the  fire  without  any  injury,  the  heat  only  serv- 
ing to  cleanse  it  of  its  impurities.  It  comes  out  of  the  fire  look- 
ing brighter  and  better  than  when  it  went  in. 

Sir  Hans  Sloane  happened  to  hear  that  Franklin  had  a  purse 
of  this  material,  and  he  sent  to  request  that  he  would  bring  it  to 
his  house  and  show  it  to  him.  Franklin  accordingly  went,  and 
Sir  Hans  Sloane,  on  seeing  the  purse,  wished  to  purchase  it,  in  or- 
der that  he  might  add  it  to  his  collection.  He  offered  so  large  a 
price  for  it  that  Franklin  concluded  to  accept  the  proposal. 

The  collection  of  Sir  Hans  Sloane  was  purchased,  after  his 
death,  by  the  British  government,  and  it  formed  the  commence- 
ment of  the  immense  cabinet  now  known  all  over  the  world  as  the 
British  Museum.  ' 


SWIMMING.  139 


Plan  for  returning  to  Philadelphia.  Learning  to  swim.  Empiricism. 

Franklin  continued  to  live  in  London  in  this  way  for  about 
eighteen  months,  and  then  a  plan  was  formed  for  his  return  to 
Philadelphia.  He  was  now  nearly  of  age,  and  in  the  proposal 
which  was  made  to  him  to  go  back  to  America,  he  was  considered 
and  dealt  with  as  a  man,  and  so  we  may  here  properly  consider 
his  boyhood  as  being  ended.  Before  closing  this  volume,  how- 
ever, I  must  give  an  account  of  an  adventure  which  he  met  with 
in  London,  and  which  will  require  a  chapter  by  itself.  It  relates 
to  the  subject  of  swimming. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

SWIMMING. 

While  Franklin  was  in  London,  he  met  with  a  somewhat  sin- 
gular adventure,  that  grew  out  of  the  disposition  which  he  always 
manifested  to  learn  every  thing  that  he  could,  which  there  was 
any  possibility  might  be  of  any  advantage  to  him,  and  to  com- 
municate also  any  useful  knowledge  which  he  might  thus  acquire 
to  others.  The  art  which  was  the  occasion  of  the  adventure  in 
this  case  was  the  art  of  swimming. 

Almost  all  boys  who  have  opportunities  to  go  into  deep  water 
to  bathe,  when  they  are  young,  gradually  learn  to  swim.  Most 
boys,  however,  in  acquiring  the  art  of  swimming,  learn  in  an  em- 
pirical, and  not  in  a  scientific  manner.  To  learn  empirically  is  to 
learn  without  observing  or  understanding  any  principles.  A  boy, 
in  learning  thus,  flounders  about  in  the  stream  without  any  plan  or 
design,  and  without  any  definite  idea  of  what  it  is  necessary  to  do 


140  SWIMMING. 


How  boys  usually  manage  in  learning  to  swim. 


in  order  to  swim.  He  lies  down  upon  the  water,  and  splashes 
with  his  hands  and  feet  a  moment,  but  he  finds  himself  sinking, 
and  feels  the  water  coming  into  his  mouth  and  nose,  and  then,  after 
much  scrambling  and  staggering,  he  gets  his  feet  upon  the  bot- 
tom again,  and  stands  up.  This  he  considers  taking  one  lesson. 
He  never  thinks  of  asking  himself  what  the  reason  is  why  his 
mouth  and  nose  go  under  the  water,  while  those  of  another  boy,  a 
good  swimmer,  who  is  propelling  himself  smoothly  through  the 
water  by  his  side,  keep  out.  He  never  looks  to  see  what  the  ex- 
act nature  of  the  motion  is  which  the  swimmer  makes  with  his 
hands  and  feet,  so  as  to  carry  him  forward,  while  he  himself,  with 
all  his  paddling  and  scrambling,  only  goes  the  quicker  to  the  bot- 
tom. In  a  word,  he  pays  no  attention  to  principles  at  all,  but  acts 
blindly,  trying  again  and  again,  but  without  any  ideas  of  what  he 
has  to  do,  to  guide  him.  Every  thing  is  done  by  blundering,  and 
finally  he  blunders  upon  the  right ;  and  so,  in  the  course,  of  a  few 
years,  he  becomes  a  swimmer,  he  knows  not  how.  He  can  not  be 
said  really  to  have  learned  to  swim.  He  has  not  learned  any 
thing  at  all.  He  does  not  understand  any  thing.  He  can  not 
even  be  said,  strictly  speaking,  to  know  how  to  swim.  He  can  do 
the  thing,  it  is  true,  but  he  does  not  know,  after  all,  how  he  does  it. 
Franklin  learned  in  a  very  different  way  from  this.  When  he 
saw  a  boy  swimming  through  the  water,  he  stopped  to  look  at 
him,  so  as  to  understand  exactly  how  and  in  what  way  the  work 
was  done.  He  reasoned,  too,  about  the  floating  of  the  body,  and 
about  the  mode  by  which  the  movement  of  the  hands  and  of  the 
feet  could  have  taken  effect  in  propelling  it  through  the  water.  In 
working  the  feet,  for  example,  many  boys,  when  they  first  begin, 


SWIMMING.  141 


Franklin's  mode  of  learning.  Advantage  of  it.  Wygate. 


thrash  them  up  and  down,  in  and  out  of  the  water,  making,  of 
course,  a  great  commotion,  but  producing  no  useful  effect.  Frank- 
lin saw  very  clearly,  as  every  intelligent  boy  must  do  who  reflects 
a  moment  on  the  subject,  that  to  drive  the  body  forward,  the  soles 
of  the  feet  must  be  planted  against  the  water,  so  to  speak,  and 
then  driven  backward,  just  as  a  child  lying  on  the  carpet  would 
force  himself  forward  upon  it  by  planting  his  feet  against  the  wall, 
or  against  any  heavy  piece  of  furniture,  and  then  pushing  stead- 
ily and  square  against  it  so  as  to  move  himself  along.  Having  a 
distinct  idea  thus  in  your  mind  exactly  what  you  are  to  do,  and 
how  the  thing  which  you  do  is  going  to  operate  to  accomplish  your 
object,  aids  you  very  much  in  learning  any  art  whatever. 

Franklin  learned  to  swim  in  this  way,  and  of  course,  when  he 
had  learned',  he  could  explain  the  process  very  easily  and  intelli- 
gently to  any  one  else. 

He  acquired  great  skill  in  swimming,  too,  and  could  perform  a 
great  number  and  variety  of  feats  of  strength  and  dexterity  in  the 
water.  He  could  dive  to  a  great  depth,  and  bring  up  stones  from 
the  bottom.  He  could  float  or  swim  on  his  back.  He  could  go 
down  feet  foremost  to  the  bottom  of  the  river,  and  then,  coming  up 
suddenly,  rise  by  half  his  length  out  of  the  water,  like  a  sturgeon 
jumping.  He  had  a  book  which  contained  an  account  of  a  great 
many  performances  of  this  kind,  with  descriptions  of  the  manner 
of  executing  them.  Franklin  learned  all  these,  and  he  invented, 
moreover,  a  great  many  new  ones  besides. 

Among  Franklin's  friends  in  the  printing-office  was  a  young  man 
named  Wygate,  who  was  a  very  intelligent  and  well-educated  young 
man.     This  Wygate  wished  very  much  to  learn  to  swim.     He  had 


142  SWIMMING. 


Franklin's  two  pupils.  The  watermen  on  the  Thames. 

a  friend,  also,  who  had  the  same  desire.  So  Franklin  went  with 
them  into  the  water,  and  undertook  to  teach  them.  They  were 
very  intelligent  pupils,  and  they  listened  very  attentively  to  the 
theoretical  explanations  which  Franklin  gave  them.  Accordingly, 
when  they  lay  forward  in  the  water,  and  began  to  make  an  effort 
to  swim,  they  knew  precisely  what  it  was  that  they  had  to  do,  and 
how  they  must  attempt  to  do  it.  They  did  not,  therefore,  as  many 
boys  do  in  such  cases,  lose  half  their  time  in  blind  and  aimless 
struggles.  All  the  efforts  which  they  made  were  made  in  the  right 
way,  and  tended  directly  to  the  end  which  they  had  in  view.  The 
consequence  was,  that  they  learned  so  fast,  that,  after  they  had  been 
taken  twice  into  the  river,  they  could  begin  to  swim,  and  after  that 
they  needed  no  farther  assistance. 

One  day,  while  Franklin  was  residing  in  London,  he  went  on  an 
excursion  up  the  river  to  a  place  called  Chelsea,  which  is  situated 
a  few  miles  above  the  city.  There  were  in  those  days  a  great 
many  boats  on  the  river,  which  were  rowed  by  a  class  of  men  called 
watermen,  and  people  often  made  excursions  in  these  boats,  both 
up  and  down  the  stream.  There  are  many  bridges  across  the 
Thames  opposite  to  London.  The  watermen  could  row  the  boats 
through  under  the  arches  of  these  bridges,  and  they  would  proceed 
in  this  way  until  at  length  they  got  beyond  the  city.  The  banks 
of  the  river  then  began  to  be  very  picturesque  and  beautiful.  There 
were  green  lawns  extending  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  elegant 
villas  on  all  the  elevated  points  of  land,  and  public  edifices  and 
pretty  villages,  and  the  spires  of  churches  rising  above  the  trees, 
and  a  thousand  other  objects  of  rural  beauty. 

In  fact,  so  beautiful  are  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  so  numerous 


SWIMMING. 


143 


Picture  of  a  procession  of  barges. 


View  of  the  river. 


are  the  objects  of  interest  that  attract  the  attention  of  the  specta- 
tor in  sailing  up  or  down,  that  aquatic  excursions  for  pleasure  have 
been  very  common  on  the  Thames  for  many  hundred  years.  On 
great  public  occasions,  processions  have  been  formed  of  boats  and 
barges,  the  barges  being  sometimes  very  elegant  in  their  con- 
struction and  equipment.     Here  is  an  engraving  of  one  of  these 


VM?£;/-  '»^<:^ 


;ifi 


!"  !h  fife  i1 « i^lF1'  iffiM#tMj  wm^y^t  i*i 


processions  ascending  the  river,  with  the  public  buildings  on  the 
banks,  as  they  existed  some  hundred  years  ago. 


144  SWIMMING. 


Franklin's  party.  His  feats  of  swimming  in  the  river. 

There  were  several  young  men  in  the  boat  with  Franklin  at  the 
time  of  his  excursion.  One  of  them  was  Wygate  ;  and  as  the 
party  were  returning  from  their  trip,  coming  down  the  river  toward 
London,  Wygate  proposed  that  Franklin  should  show  them  some 
of  his  swimming  feats. 

The  company  in  the  boat  warmly  seconded  Wygate's  request, 
and  Franklin  accordingly  acceded  to  it.  He  undressed  himself, 
and  plunged  into  the  river.  He  then  went  swimming  along  down 
the  river,  keeping  up  with  the  boat  as  the  oarsmen  rowed  it,  and 
performing  a  great  many  feats  of  strength  and  dexterity  by  the 
way. 

The  party  in  the  boat  were  very  much  pleased  to  witness  these 
performances,  and  they  applauded  them  very  highly.  Their  ap- 
plause stimulated  Franklin's  ambition  to  make  still  greater  efforts, 
so  that  he  very  probably  made  a  greater  display  of  his  aquatic  skill 
than  he  had  done  on  any  other  occasion.  He  kept  in  the  water — 
accompanying  the  boat  in  this  manner — all  the  way  from  Chelsea 
to  Blackfriar's  Bridge,  which  was  the  first  bridge  they  came  to  in 
London.     He  then  came  up  to  the  boat  and  climbed  on  board. 

Not  long  after  this  occurrence,  Franklin  received  a. message 
from  a  gentleman  of  London,  of  high  rank,  requesting  that  Frank- 
lin would  call  at  his  house,  as  he  wished  to  see  him  on  some  busi- 
ness. The  name  of  this  gentleman  was  Sir  William  Wyndham. 
Franklin  did  not  know  why  he  was  sent  for,  but  he  went  at  the 
appointed  time,  and  found  that  the  gentleman  wished  to  engage 
him  to  teach  his  sons  to  swim.  He  had  heard  in  some  way  or 
other  of  Franklin's  feats  on  the  Thames  on  the  day  that  the 
party  went  to  Chelsea,  and  had  also  learned  that  Franklin  had 


SWIMMING*.  145 


Advantages  of  being  able  to  swim.  Effect  upon  the  mind. 

taught  two  of  his  companions  to  swim  in  two  lessons  ;  so  he 
wished  to  employ  him  to  teach  his  sons.  His  sons  were  young 
men  who  were  about  setting  out  on  their  travels,  and  Sir  William 
thought  that  it  might  be  of  great  advantage  to  them  to  learn  to 
swim. 

It  really  is  of  great  advantage  to  every  one  to  learn  to  swim  ; 
but  this  is  not  because  cases  often  occur  in  which  a  person  can 
actually  save  his  life  by  swimming,  or  even  rescue  any  other  per- 
son from  danger  of  drowning.  Such  emergencies  as  these  are 
indeed  very  rare.  Cases,  however,  do  occur  very  often  where 
the  fear  and  anxiety  which  a  person  would  otherwise  suffer  is 
very  much  diminished  by  knowing  how  to  swim.  A  number  of 
passengers,  for  example,  in  leaving  a  steam-boat  or  in  going  on 
board  of  one,  may  have  to  walk  along  a  narrow  plank,  over  deep 
water.  Now  if  those  who  have  to  go  over  such  a  plank  can 
swim,  they  go  over  it  without  fear.  It  is  true  it  would  be  dis- 
agreeable to  fall  in,  but  they  knowT  that  there  would  be  no  danger 
in  it,  and  so  they  feel  no  trepidation  or  anxiety.  They  walk  over 
the  plank  boldly,  just  as  they  would  if  it  were  a  plank  laid  across 
a  muddy  piece  of  ground,  whereas  those  who  can  not  swim  often 
come  to  the  plank  with  a  feeling  of  terror.  The  dark  water  below 
has  an  expression  of  awful  danger  in  its  gloomy  depths,  and  per- 
haps some  of  them  may  actually  fall  into  it  from  the  influence  of 
their  trepidation  and  fear,  when,  if  they  had  been  able  to  swim, 
they  might  have  passed  over  it  in  safety. 

Thus  persons  who  can  swim  are  much  more  courageous  than 
others  in  all  cases  where  they  have  to  pass  over  water,  or  where 
they  are  exposed  to  danger  by  water  in  any  way.  And  although 
11  K     - 


146  SWIMMING. 


Occasions  requiring  self-possession.  Franklin  declines  Colonel  Wyndham's  offer. 


on  all  great  public  thoroughfares,  as,  for  example,  in  crossing  the 
channel  between  England  and  France,  and  in  going  up  and  down 
the  North  River  in  America,  arrangements  are  usually  made  which 
guard  the  passengers  effectually  from  all  occasion  for  this  sort  of 
alarm,  still,  in  making  extended  tours,  it  is  not  possible  always  to 
avoid  it.  We  have  to  descend  from  a  great  steamer  to  a  small 
one  sometimes,  at  the  end  of  a  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  where 
we  have  only  what  seems  to  be  a  very  steep  and  precarious  foot- 
ing to  walk  upon.  We  have  to  cross  rivers  in  small  boats,  where 
bridges  have  been  carried  away,  and  even  in  taking  walks  in  the 
country,  I  have  seen  young  ladies  of  the  city  very  reluctant  to  go 
over  a  brook  upon  a  plank  on  which  the  children  of  the  neighbor- 
hood would  run  to  and  fro  without  the  least  concern.  In  all  such 
cases,  knowing  how  to  swim  gives  one  a  degree  of  courage  and 
confidence  that  is  scarcely  to  be  acquired  in  any  other  way. 

Franklin  concluded  not  to  accept  Sir  William  Wyndham's  pro- 
posal that  he  should  teach  his  sons  to  swTim,  although  he  was  of- 
fered a  great  price  for  the  tuition,  if  he  would  undertake  it.  The 
proposal  was  not  made  to  him  until  after  he  had  concluded  to  re- 
turn to  America,  and  the  young  men  were  not  then  in  town,  and  it 
was  not  certain  how  soon  they  would  come.  The  price,  however, 
which  Sir  William  offered  for  the  instruction  of  his  sons  was  so 
great,  that  Franklin  concluded  that,  if  he  were  to  open  a  swimming- 
school,  and  could  have  as  many  pupils  as  he  could  attend  to,  on 
the  same  terms  with  those  which  Colonel  Wyndham  offered,  he 
could  have  a  very  profitable  business,  and  he  almost  concluded  to 
make  the  attempt.  He  could  earn  much  more  money  in  this  way, 
he  found,  than  he  could  by  printing. 


SWIMMING.  147 


His  wise  reasoning  on  the  subject.  His  method  of  learning  to  swim. 

His  calculation  was,  no  doubt,  correct,  so  far  as  the  immediate  re- 
sults were  concerned ;  but  he  would  have  made  a  great  mistake, 
notwithstanding  this,  if  he  had  attempted  to  carry  this  idea  into  ex- 
ecution. For  the  swimming-school,  though  it  might  be  very  profit- 
able at  the  outset,  could  lead  to  nothing  beyond,  whereas  the  bus- 
iness of  printing,  though  a  journeyman's  wages  at  that  trade  might 
at  first  be  small,  opens  many  broad  and  continued  avenues  to  future 
usefulness.  The  field  of  enterprise  in  the  work  of  printing  and 
publishing  newspapers  and  books  is  boundless.  A  man  may  rise 
to  the  very  highest  position  of  influence  and  responsibility  by  them ; 
whereas  the  swimming-school,  however  profitable  it  might  be  at 
the  beginning,  could  lead  to  nothing  great  or  noble  in  the  end. 

Young  men  should  always  look  at  the  subject  in  this  point  of 
view  when  choosing  their  occupation  for  life. 

Franklin  continued  to  take  an  interest  in  the  subject  of  swim- 
ming as  long  as  he  lived.  Some  years  after  the  time  of  which  we 
have  been  speaking,  he  wrote  to  one  or  two  friends,  giving  them 
some  instructions  on  the  subject,  and  in  these  instructions  he  laid 
down,  in  quite  a  lucid  manner,  several  of  the  more  important  prin- 
ciples which  should  guide  a  person  in  learning  the  art.  He  pro- 
posed a  method  for  beginners  which  is  very  excellent,  and  which 
has  been  tried  by  many  thousand  boys  since  he  recommended  it, 
and  will  be  tried  by  many  thousands  more  in  time  to  come.  It 
was  this  : 

When  you  are  undressed,  and  are  ready  to  go  into  the  water, 
take  an  egg  in  your  hand — a  small  white  stone  will  answer  just  as 
well,  and  can  be  more  easily  obtained — and  wade  out  with  it  until 
the  water  is  up  to  your  arm-pits,  or  as  near  to  that  depth  as  you 


148  SWIMMING. 


Difficulty  of  diving  for  the  egg.  Keeping  the  eyes  open  under  water. 

think  it  safe  to  go.  Then  turn  round  so  as  to  face  toward  the 
shore,  and  drop  the  egg  or  the  stone,  whichever  it  may  be,  into 
the  water,  a  few  feet  before  you.  It  will,  of  course,  sink  to  the 
bottom.  If  it  is  an  egg  that  you  use  in  this  experiment,  it  will  sink 
rather  slowly,  but  still  it  will  sink,  as  an  egg  is  somewhat  heavier 
than  water.  If,  now,  you  have  waded  out  as  far  as  is  directed 
above  before  you  drop  the  egg,  you  will  see  that  you  can  not  reach 
it  as  it  lies  on  the  bottom  without  plunging  your  whole  body  into 
the  water,  and  diving  for  it,  as  it  were.  This  you  will  find  will  be 
no  easy  task.  Although  you,  perhaps,  were  afraid  before  even  to 
lie  down  upon  the  water,  for  fear  that  you  should  immediately  sink, 
you  will  now  find  that,  instead  of  going  to  the  bottom  involuntarily, 
it  is  difficult  for  you  to  get  to  the  bottom  at  all.  You  will  have  to 
paddle  with  your  hands,  and  push  the  water  back  with  them,  in 
order  to  get  down.  You  will  see  the  egg  lying  there,  but  you  can 
not  get  to  it,  and  this  will  give  you  a  more  practical  conviction  of 
the  natural  buoyancy  of  the  human  body  than  can  be  obtained 
readily  in  any  other  way. 

Of  course  you  must  keep  your  eyes  open  all  the  time,  in  order 
to  see  the  egg.  Some  persons  imagine  that  they  can  not  keep 
their  eyes  open  under  water.  But,  if  they  will  try  the  experiment 
boldly,  they  will  find  that  there  is  no  difficulty  in  it,  and  that  no 
inconvenience  results  from  it  of  any  kind,  whether  the  water  be 
salt  or  fresh. 

The  lightest  part  of  the  human  body  is  the  chest,  because  that 
is  the  hollow  part.  It  contains  the  lungs,  and  the  lungs  are  filled 
with  air.  The  lungs  of  animals,  taken  out  and  laid  upon  water, 
will  float  like  so  much  froth.     In  fact,  they  are  called  the  lights 


SWIMMING.  149 


Experiments  in  floating.  Specific  gravity.  Illustrations. 


on  that  very  account.  You  make  the  lungs  lighter  by  inflating 
them  fully  with  air,  that  is,  by  drawing  a  long  breath  just  before 
you  lay  yourself  down  in  the  water.  There  is  a  great  difference 
in  the  specific  gravity*  of  different  human  bodies,  owing  to  the 
difference  in  the  proportion  of  the  bones  to  the  other  parts — bones 
being  heavy.  Notwithstanding  this  difference,  however,  the  body 
of  any  person  will  float,  especially  in  salt  water,  if  the  lungs  are 
inflated,  though  few  persons  who  do  not  know  how  to  swim  have 
courage  enough  to  try  the  experiment. 

The  way  to  try  the  experiment,  for  those  who  have  the  requisite 
courage  and  self-possession,  is  this  :  Wade  out  into  the  river  until 
the  water  is  up  to  your  chin.  If  you  are  afraid  to  go  so  far  alone, 
let  some  one  who  can  swim  go  with  you.  When  you  have  taken 
your  position,  draw  a  long  and  full  breath,  and  then,  shutting  your 
mouth,  kneel  or  stoop  down  gradually,  until  your  head  is  all  sub- 
merged except  the  top  of  it,  and  then  gently  raise  your  feet  off 
from  the  bottom.  Of  course  you  must  hold  your  breath  all  the 
time,  as  your  mouth  and  nose  will  be  under  water  so  that  you  can 
not  breathe.  But  there  is  no  difficulty  in  doing  this  except  your 
want  of  courage  and  self-possession;   for  to  go  through  the  ex- 

*  Gravity  means  weight,  but  specific  gravity  means  comparative  weight  in  rela- 
tion to  other  bodies  of  the  same  size.  A  ship,  for  example,  is  enormously  heavj7  in 
itself,  but  compared  with  its  own  bulk  of  water  it  is  not  very  heavy,  and  so  it  floats 
lightly ;  but  a  cannon  ball,  though  weighing  so  much  less  absolutely  than  the  ship, 
still  weighs  a  great  deal  compared  with  its  bulk  of  water.  Its  absolute  gravity  is 
less  than  that  of  the  ship,  but  its  specific  gravity,  that  is,  its  weight  in  comparison 
with  water,  is  much  greater.  So  a  duck  will  weigh  a  great  deal  more  than  an  egg, 
and  yet  the  duck  swims  lightly  on  the  top  of  the  water,  but  the  egg  sinks  to  the 
bottom.     The  specific  gravity  of  the  egg  is  the  greatest. 


150  SWIMMING. 


Holding  one's  breath  under  water.  Another  method  of  floating. 

periment  completely,  so  as  to  feel  yourself  sustained  by  the  water, 
need  not  require  more  than  five  seconds,  and  a  person  may  hold 
his  breath  fifteen  or  twenty  seconds  without  any  inconvenience. 
Most  persons,  however,  who  attempt  to  try  this  experiment  for  the 
first  time,  as  soon  as  they  find  their  mouth  and  nose  sinking  be- 
neath the  surface,  will  think  they  are  drowning,  and  immediately 
begin  to  flounder  and  struggle,  and  so  get  back  upon  their  feet 
again  before  they  were  fairly  afloat. 

There  would  be  very  little  difficulty  in  performing  this  experi- 
ment if  a  person  had  his  mouth  at  the  top  of  his  head,  or  if  he  had 
any  other  orifice  for  breathing  there.  He  then  would  let  himself 
down  into  the  water  slowly  and  gradually,  until  a  sufficient  portion 
of  his  body  was  submerged  to  float  the  rest,  breathing  all  the  time 
out  of  the  top  of  his  head.  But  as  it  is,  when  we  attempt  to  let 
ourselves  down  in  this  way,  the  breathing  openings  are,  of  course, 
taken  under  water  first,  before  the  other  parts  are  submerged,  and 
this  frightens  us,  and  puts  an  end  to  the  experiment. 

There  is  another  method,  therefore,  of  coming  to  the  same  re- 
sult, which  is  much  more  easy  and  much  more  satisfactory  than 
the  one  I  have  already  described,  only  it  requires  the  aid  of  an  as- 
sistant.    The  method  is  this  : 

Wade  out  into  the  water  as  before,  and  let  your  friend,  who 
stands  for  this  purpose  by  your  side,  put  his  hand  against  your 
back,  and  let  you  gradually  down  backward  into  the  water,  sus- 
taining you,  however,  by  his  hand  sufficiently  to  prevent  your  go- 
ing altogether  under.  You  might,  perhaps,  suppose  that,  if  what 
I  have  been  saying  of  the  buoyant  properties  of  the  human  body 
is  true,  there  would  be  no  danger  of  your  going  altogether  under ; 


SWIMMING.  151 


The  laws  of  floating.  Precautions  to  be  taken. 


but  there  is  danger,  arising,  not  from  the  fact  that  your  body  is  act- 
ually heavier  than  the  water,  but  from  the  momentum  which  the 
body  acquires  in  its  motion  when  going  down.  If  you  take  a  long 
stick  of  wood,  and,  holding  it  perpendicularly  over  deep  water,  let 
it  down  until  half  the  length  of  the  stick  is  submerged,  and  then, 
finally,  let  go  of  it  altogether,  so  as  to  allow  it  to  descend  rapidly 
by  its  own  weight,  it  will  go  entirely  under  for  a  moment,  though 
it  will  immediately  rise  again.  It  is  carried  under  by  its  moment- 
um.* In  the  same  manner,  a  human  body  let  down  suddenly  into 
the  water  would  go  entirely  under,  though  if  the  lungs  were  full 
it  would  soon  come  up  again. 

It  is  to  guard  against  this  going  down  too  suddenly  that  your 
assistant  puts  his  hand  under  your  back  as  you  lie  over.  He  must 
lower  you  down  in  a  very  gradual  manner.  You  must  throw  your 
head  back,  too,  as  far  as  you  can,  so  as  to  get  as  large  a  part  of  it 
as  possible  submerged.  In  fact,  nothing  should  be  left  out  of  the 
water  but  your  face,  and  as  little  of  that  as  possible,  except  the 
nose  and  mouth. 

This  getting  as  much  of  the  head  under  the  water  as  you  can 
is  very  important  indeed,  and,  for  the  same  reasons,  the  hands  must 
be  kept  wholly  under.  Remember,  in  all  your  swimming  experi- 
ments, that  this  is  a  universal  rule,  namely,  that  every  portion  of 
your  body  which  is  under  water  helps  to  buoy  up  the  rest,  while 
every  part  that  is  above  the  water  helps  to  sink  the  rest.  The  not 
being  aware  of  this  principle  is  a  reason  for  a  great  many  of  the 
failures  which  boys  make  in  their  first  attempts  to  swim.     They 

*  The  momentum  of  any  body  in  motion  is  that  tendency  which  it  has,  when  once 
moving,  to  go  on  until  it  is  stopped. 


152  SWIMMING. 


Common  errors.  Floating  on  one's  back.  Difficulties. 

keep  their  hands  and  arms,  or  their  shoulders,  out  of  the  water, 
and  this  makes  them  sink  immediately  dowTn ;  or,  when  they  are 
going  to  try  to  swim,  they  begin  to  paddle  away  very  furiously 
with  their  hands  before  they  have  let  themselves  down  loiv  enough. 
A  boy  who  lets  himself  down  only  to  his  shoulders,  and  who  then, 
at  the  strokes  which  he  makes,  takes  his  hands  out  of  the  water 
partially  or  wholly,  must  of  course  sink  ;  for  his  head,  and  his  shoul- 
ders, and  his  arms,  while  they  are  out,  are  only  so  many  weights 
pressing  him  down.  If  he  would  get  all  these  except  his  head 
under  water,  and  keep  them  there,  they  would  then  become  so 
many  floats  to  buoy  him  up. 

But  to  return  to  our  experiment.  When  your  friend  has  let  you 
down  so  as  to  get  all  the  back  part  of  your  head  submerged,  tak- 
ing care,  at  the  same  time,  that  your  hands  and  feet  are  entirely 
under,  he  directs  you  to  draw  a  long  and  full  breath,  and  then  gen- 
tly drops  his  hand  from  beneath  you.  You  will  find  that  you  w?ill 
float  quite  securely  on  the  water  when  left  thus  wTholly  to  your- 
self. You  can  then  soon  breathe  a  little ;  and  though,  at  every  ex- 
piration, you  will  observe  a  tendency  to  sink,  at  every  inspiration 
there  will  be  a  tendency  to  rise  again,  and  thus  you  can  float  a 
considerable  time. 

In  fact,  you  could  float  so  for  an  indefinite  period  were  it  not 
for  tw7o  difficulties.  One  is,  that  your  feet  and  legs,  being  parts 
of  the  body  that  are  heavier  than  water,  will  be  all  the  time 
slowly  sinking,  and  thus,  in  a  short  time,  your  chin,  and  next 
your  mouth  and  nose,  would  be  drawn  under.  This  will  frighten 
you,  and  you  will  immediately  begin  to  struggle  to  recover  your 
footing.     The  other  difficulty  is,  that  you  might  possibly  begin  to 


SWIMMING.  153 


Necessity  of  understanding  what  3rou  are  doing.  Movement  of  the  feet  and  hands. 

turn  over  in  the  water,  which  would  also  set  you  to  struggling. 
A  swimmer  can  counteract  this  tendency  by  a  slight  motion  of 
his  hands,  but  one  who  does  not  know  how  to  swim  can  not  very 
easily  effect  this. 

Experiments  of  this  kind,  which  give  you  practical  ideas  of  the 
degree  of  buoyancy  which  the  human  body  possesses,  and  of  the 
actual  conditions  on  which  your  own  will  float,  are  extremely 
useful  to  those  who  are  learning  to  swim. 

Above  all,  it  is  necessary,  in  order  to  make  sure  and  rapid 
progress  in  acquiring  this  art,  to  keep  in  mind,  in  all  the  efforts 
that  you  make,  what  the  object  is  which  you  have  in  view,  and 
how  the  effort  that  you  are  making  tends  to  accomplish  the  object. 
In  working  your  feet,  think  continually,  when  you  are  making  the 
stroke,  that  your  object  is  to  push  yourself  forward  by  pushing  the 
water  back,  and  plant  your  feet  accordingly  in  such  a  manner, 
before  you  give  the  stroke,  as  to  push  back  as  much  of  the  water 
as  possible.  Striking  your  feet  up  and  down,  in  and  out  of  the 
water,  as  many  boys  do  who  practice  without  thought,  will  of 
course  do  no  good. 

On  the  same  principle,  the  hands  must  be  worked  in  such  a 
manner,  when  you  are  attempting  to  swim,  as  to  push  the  water 
back  with  them,  as  if  you  were  trying  to  get  as  much  of  it  as  pos- 
sible behind  you.  It  is  the  reaction  of  this  pushing  of  the  water 
back  that  drives  the  swimmer  forward.  Now,  in  order  to  push 
the  water  back,  the  hands  must  be  held  in  such  a  position  as  to 
turn  the  palms  outward  and  backward.  They  must  also  be  inclined 
a  little  downward,  so  as  to  exert  a  part  of  their  force  in  buoying 
the  body  up,  and  thus  help  to  keep  the  head  above  water.     The 


154 


SWIMMING. 


Advantage  enjoyed  by  the  dog. 


Swimming  with  a  load  on  one's  back. 


position  of  the  hands  is  somewhat  difficult  to  manage  exactly, 

being  quite  an  unnatural  one. 

The  dog  has  a  great  advantage  over  man  in  respect  to  this 

point,  for  the  most  natural  and  easy  motion  of  his  paws  that  he 

can  make  is  the  very  one  best 
adapted  both  to  buoy  him  up 
and  to  propel  him  through  the 
water.  The  natural  motion  of 
his  paws  is  especially  adapted 
to  buoy  him  up,  and  it  is  in 
consequence  of  this,  in  part, 
that  he  swims  with  his  head 
far  higher  out  of  the  water 
than  man.  He  can  even  car- 
ry articles  of  weight  in  his 
mouth,  and  hold  them  high  up 
from  the  water  as  he  swims 

along.     A  man  or  a  boy,  on  the  other  hand,  would  find  it  very 

hard  to  swim  with  a  cane  in  his  mouth. 

And  yet  sometimes  persons  can  swim  with  quite  a  considerable 

burden  on  their  heads.     I  have  heard  of  a  boy  swimming  across  a 

river  with  his  clothes  tied  in  a  bundle  on  the  top  of  his  hat.     To 

do  this,  however,  requires  a  great  deal  of  strength  and  skill. 


THE  RETURN  TO  AMERICA.  155 


Franklin  receives  a  very  advantageous  offer  from  Mr.  Denham. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    RETURN    TO    AMERICA. 

Very  soon  after  the  incidents  took  place  which  are  related  in 
the  last  chapter,  Franklin  left  London  and  returned  to  America. 
The  reason  why  he  returned  at  this  time  was  because  his  friend, 
Mr.  Denham,  was  going  back,  and  he  received  a  very  advantageous 
proposition  from  him  to  go  into  business  with  him  as  a  merchant. 

Mr.  Denham  was  going  to  open  a  store  in  Philadelphia.  He  was 
intending  to  purchase  his  goods  in  London,  and  to  send  them  over 
in  the  ship.  He  would  require  a  clerk,  he  said,  to  aid  him  in  his 
business.  The  duties  of  the  clerk  would  be,  to  keep  the  books  of 
accounts,  copy  the  letters,  and  attend  in  the  store  to  sell  goods  to 
the  customers  when  they  came  in. 

Mr.  Denham  told  Franklin  that  he  would  give  him  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  a  year  if  he  would  be  his  clerk. 

One  objection  to  this  plan  was,  that  Franklin  did  not  understand 
book-keeping  very  well ;  but  Mr.  Denham  said  that  he  would  in- 
struct him  in  what  he  was  to  do,  and  that  he  would  soon  learn. 

Nor  was  he  acquainted  with  the  kind  of  goods  which  Mr.  Den- 
ham was  going  to  buy,  or  with  the  art  of  explaining  the  qualities 
and  prices  of  them  to  customers,  so  as  to  induce  them  to  purchase. 
This  is,  in  itself,  quite  an  art.  It  is  an  art  which  some  persons  seem 
to  be  wholly  unable  to  acquire.  Mr.  Denham,  however,  was  per- 
suaded that  Franklin  would  learn  it  very  soon.  He  was  so  intel- 
ligent, and  so  gentlemanly  in  his  manners,  and  there  was  such  an 


156  THE  RETURN  TO  AMERICA. 

Mr.  Denham  forms  various  plans.  Franklin's  salary. 

air  of  frankness  and  honesty  in  all  that  he  did  and  said,  that  Mr. 
Denham  was  quite  sure  that  he  would  succeed. 

The  salary  which  Mr.  Denham  offered  him — two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  a  year — was  less  than  he  received  in  the  printing-office, 
and  this  was  one  reason  which  led  him  to  hesitate  about  accepting 
Mr.  Denham's  proposals.  But  Mr.  Denham  said  that,  though  he 
proposed  to  pay  him  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  at  first,  while 
he  was  a  clerk,  he  would  soon  make  a  much  more  advantageous 
arrangement  with  him,  in  case  he  -was  diligent  and  attentive  to  his 
business,  and  succeeded  in  it.  He  would  send  him  to  the  West 
Indies,  he  said,  with  a  cargo  of  flour  and  bread,  and  procure  other 
business  for  him  to  do  there,  on  commission,  which  would  be  very 
profitable  to  him. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  that  sort  of  trade  between  Phila- 
delphia and  the  West  Indies  in  those  days,  as,  in  fact,  there  is  now. 
Wheat  and  other  such  grains,  used  for  making  bread,  do  not  grow 
in  hot  climates,  and,  consequently,  all  the  supplies  which  the  people 
who  live  within  the  tropics  obtain  of  these  grains,  or  of  the  flour  or 
biscuit  made  from  them,  go  from  the  cooler  regions  of  the  north. 
The  Philadelphia  merchants  were  accordingly  accustomed  to  send 
cargoes  of  breadstuff's  to  these  islands,  and  bring  back  coffee,  and 
sugar,  and  oranges,  and  other  tropical  productions  in  return. 

Mr.  Denham  therefore  promised  Franklin  that,  if  he  was  suc- 
cessful in  the  performance  of  his  duties  as  a  clerk,  he  would,  in 
the  following  year,  send  him  to  the  West  Indies  in  charge  of  such 
a  cargo  as  this,  on  commission.  This  means  that  he  was  not  to 
have  a  regular  salary  for  his  services  in  selling  the  flour  and  the 
bread,  but  a  certain  proportion  of  the  amount  received  for  what  he 


THE  RETURN  TO  AMERICA.  157 

Qualifications  of  a  good  salesman.  The  offer  accepted. 

should  sell,  and  of  that  disbursed  for  what  he  should  buy.  Such 
a  business  as  this  is  very  profitable,  provided  a  man  can  have 
enough  of  it  intrusted  to  his  charge  to  employ  him  fully.  He  may 
sometimes  double  his  own  pay  by  an  increase  of  his  business,  with- 
out adding  any  thing  of  consequence  to  his  trouble.  For  example, 
suppose  that  he  has  an  order  to  purchase  a  hundred  hogsheads  of 
sugar  for  a  certain  merchant,  and  the  commission  upon  the  pur- 
chase amounts  to  fifty  dollars ;  if,  now,  any  other  merchant  will 
give  him  an  order  to  purchase  another  hundred  hogsheads,  he  can 
earn  an  additional  fifty  dollars  very  easily  indeed,  for  while  he  is 
on  the  spot,  and  engaged  in  attending  to  the  business,  he  can  pur- 
chase two  hundred  hogsheads  of  sugar  almost  as  readily  as  he  can 
one. 

But  a  man  must  be  very  capable,  efficient,  and  prompt  in  his 
mode  of  doing  business,  in  order  to  get  enough  of  this  sort  of  bus- 
iness to  do  to  make  it  profitable  to  him.  To  do  a  small  business 
on  commission  is  very  unsatisfactory  to  all  concerned. 

Franklin  felt  confident  that  he  could  succeed  in  satisfying  those 
merchants  who  should  intrust  their  purchases  and  sales  to  his  care, 
and  so  he  finally  concluded  to  accept  Mr.  Denham's  proposal. 
The  agreement  was  consequently  made.  Franklin  closed  his  en- 
gagement at  the  printing-office,  entered  into  the  service  of  Mr. 
Denham,  and  was  thenceforward  employed  every  day,  for  some 
time,  in  going  about  the  warehouses  in  London  with  his  new  em- 
ployer, to  examine  and  select  goods  for  the  purpose  of  making  up 
the  necessary  assortment  to  take  to  America. 

When  the  assortment  was  made  up,  the  goods  were  packed  and 
put  on  board  the  ship,  and  soon  afterward  Franklin  set  sail  for 


158  THE  RETURN  TO  AMERICA. 

Franklin  returns  to  Philadelphia.  Mr.  Denham  opens  his  store. 

America.  He  landed  safely  in  Philadelphia,  after  a  pleasant  and 
prosperous  voyage. 

Mr.  Denham  immediately  took  a  store,  and,  opening  his  boxes 
and  bales,  he  put  the  goods  upon  the  shelves  with  Franklin's  assist- 
ance, and  then  set  Franklin  to  selling  them.  When  there  were  no 
customers  in  the  store,  Franklin  would  employ  himself  at  the  desk 
in  the  counting-room,  copying  letters  or  keeping  the  accounts. 

Franklin  took  great  interest  in  the  duties  of  his  new  occupation, 
and  was  very  successful  in  discharging  them.  He  liked  the  em- 
ployment and  he  liked  his  employer.  Mr.  Denham  was  very  kind 
to  him,  aiding  him  in  various  ways,  and  giving  him,  from  time  to 
time,  all  the  counsel  and  assistance  that  he  needed,  in  the  most 
friendly  manner,  just  as  a  father  would  have  done,  under  similar 
circumstances,  for  a  son. 

Things  went  on  in  this  way  very  pleasantly  and  prosperously  for 
six  months.  It  was  in  August  when  Mr.  Denham  arrived  in  Phila- 
delphia and  opened  his  store.  In  January  Franklin  became  of 
age.  His  twenty-first  birth-day  came  on  the  seventeenth  of  that 
month,  and  here,  therefore,  properly  ends  that  portion  of  the  great 
philosopher's  life  which  is  the  subject  of  the  present  volume.  It 
may,  however,  not  be  out  of  place  to  say,  that  immediately  after 
Franklin  became  of  age,  both  he  and  Mr.  Denham  were  taken 
sick.  His  own  sickness  was  very  painful  and  severe.  He  en- 
dured a  great  deal  of  suffering,  and  was  brought  at  last  into  a  sit- 
uation of  great  danger.  At  length,  however,  the  crisis  came,  and 
terminated  favorably.  He  began  slowly  to  recover.  But,  as  his 
strength  revived,  and  the  prospect  began  to  appear  encouraging 
that  he  might  get  well,  he  learned,  to  his  great  sorrow,  that  his  ex- 


THE  RETURN  TO  AMERICA.  159 


Death  of  Mr.  Denham.  Governor  Keith.  Franklin  meets  him. 

cellent  friend  and  benefactor  was  gradually  declining,  and  that  it 
was  probable  that  he  would  die.  In  the  end,  these  fears  were  re- 
alized. Mr.  Denham  died,  the  business  of  the  store  was  wound  up 
by  the  administrators,  and  Franklin's  hopes  of  becoming  a  great 
merchant  were  suddenly  brought  to  an  end. 

He,  however,  was  not  particularly  depressed  by  this  change  in 
his  prospects.  He  immediately  began  to  form  new  plans,  and  to 
proceed  with  great  promptness  and  energy  to  the  execution  of 
them.  What  these  plans  were,  and  how  he  succeeded  in  meeting 
and  overcoming  the  difficulties  which  he  had  to  encounter  in  en- 
tering the  world  as  a  man,  will  be  made  the  subject,  perhaps,  of 
some  future  volume  of  this  series. 

In  respect  to  Governor  Keith,  the  pretended  patron  who  had 
practiced  so  cruel  a  deception  upon  our  hero  in  relation  to  the  let- 
ters of  introduction,  Franklin  met  him  one  day  in  the  street,  after 
his  return  from  England.  Sir  William's  term  of  service  as  gov- 
ernor had  expired,  and  he  was  now  a  mere  private  citizen.  He 
looked  a  little  confused  and  ashamed  when  he  saw  Franklin  com- 
ing, but  he  passed  him  without  speaking  to  him.  Franklin  was 
very  willing  to  allow  him  to  pass,  as  he  did  not  desire  to  have  any 
thing  more  to  do  with  such  a  man. 

There  are  a  great  many  very  useful  lessons  to  be  learned  from 
reading  the  history  of  the  boyhood  of  Franklin.  His  industry,  his 
forethought,  his  enterprise,  his  courage,  and  the  steady  and  de- 
termined energy  with  which  he  prosecuted  the  plans  that  he 
formed,  are  worthy  of  all  imitation.  There  is  one  other  point  be- 
sides in  which  all  young  persons  should  follow  his  example,  and 
that  is  in  the  interest  which  he  took  at  all  times  in  acquiring 


160  THE  RETURN  TO  AMERICA. 

Example  of  Franklin.  Conclusion. 

knowledge.  During  the  whole  period  of  his  boyhood  and  youth, 
he  spent  his  leisure  time,  not  in  idle  sports  or  frivolous  amuse- 
ments, but  in  learning  something  which  might  be  useful  to  him  in 
future  years,  and  it  was  to  this  trait  in  his  character,  in  no  incon- 
siderable degree,  that  his  subsequent  greatness  wTas  owing. 


THE    END, 


LEARNING    TO    DRAW. 


A    SERIES    OF    NARRATIVES,    DIALOGUES,    BIOGRAPHIES,    AND    TALES, 

FOR    THE    INSTRUCTION    AND    ENTERTAINMENT 

OF    THE    YOUNG. 


J»A©@©   AUBOTnr, 


NUMEROUS  AND  BEAUTIFUL  ENGRAVINGS. 


Entered,  according  to  an  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  fifty-five,  by 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


Before  you  begin  to  read  this  book,  procure  a  piece  of  white 
paper,  not  ruled,  of  the  size  of  one  of  these  pages,  and  also  a 
lead-pencil,  with  a  fine  point,  or,  if  convenient,  a  pen  and  ink. 
Take  your  place,  too,  in  reading  it,  near  a  table  or  a  desk,  so  that 
you  can  have  a  convenient  opportunity  to  draw  a  little,  from  time 
to  time,  as  you  may  have  occasion,  in  reading  the  book.  You 
will  find,  as  you  go  on  with  the  reading  of  it,  that  various  little 
experiments  are  suggested  to  you  in  the  several  lessons,  and  the 
advantage  which  you  will  derive  from  the  perusal  of  these  in- 
structions will  be  more  than  doubled  by  your  having  at  hand  the 
means  of  putting  into  practice  at  once  what  you  learn.  By  the 
time  that  you  have  finished  the  book,  your  paper  will  be  covered 
with  little  drawings,  and  you  will  find  that,  in  making  them,  you 
have  impressed  upon  your  mind  very  strongly  the  ideas  and  prin- 
ciples which  the  book  is  intended  to  illustrate  and  explain. 


CONTENTS, 


STUDY  PAGE 

I.     LEARNING    TO    DRAW 13 

II.    THE    SAIL-BOAT 17 

III.  BOYS    BATHING 21 

IV.  THE    FISHING-POLES 25 

V.    A    PRINCIPLE    OF     PERSPECTIVE 29 

VI.    WHITE    UPON    BLACK 33 

VII.    CHRISTMAS    MORNING 38 

VIII.    BLACK    UPON   WHITE 41 

IX.    GIPSEYS     46 

X.    THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY 49 

XI.    THE    RUINS 54 

XII.    THE    HUMAN    FACE 57 

XIII.  THE     SNOW-BIRDS 62 

XIV.  THE    VOLANTE 64 

XV.    BOATS    UPON    THE    WATER 67 

XVI.    THE    MILKING 69 

XVII.    REPOSE 72 

XVIII.    THE    WINTER    NIGHT 74 

XIX.     THE     POET    ASLEEP 77 

XX.    AN   EMBLEM 78 

XXI.    THE    BLACKSMITH   .  .      . 81 

XXII.    THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT 83 

XXIII.  THE    FLUME 92 

XXIV.  THE    OMNIBUS 96 

XXV.     THE     ARAB     MULETEER 100 


X  CONTENTS. 

STUDY  PAGE 

XXVI.    THE    PENGUIN 105 

XXVII.    THE    COTTAGE    DOOR 107 

XXVIII.    DANIEL    HUNTER     110 

XXIX.    THE    HERON    .' 118 

XXX.    THE    WILD    GEESE 124 

XXXI.    THE   WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW 128 

XXXII.    THE    LOG-CABIN 133 

XXXIII.  COMPOSITION     135 

XXXIV.  THE    LOAD    OF    STRAW 139 

XXXV.    GROUPS    OF   BUILDINGS 141 

XXXVI.    FUNNIGO 147 

XXXVII.    DRAWING    FIGURES 152 

XXXVIII.    CONCLUSION 159 


ENGRAVINGS, 


PAGE 
THE    YOUNG    STUDENT Frontispiece. 

WORKING    AT    A    DISADVANTAGE 15 

THE    SAIL-BOAT 19 

LEARNING    TO    SWIM 22 

SUSAN    AND    MINNA 27 

PERSPECTIVE v 30 

CONVERGJNG    LINES    IN    LANDSCAPE 31 

THE    FENCE 33 

OUT    IN    THE     STORM 35 

THE    CHRISTMAS    SERENADE 39 

UNDER    THE    HAY    RICK 40 

HIGH    ROCK     41 

A    SHOP    FRONT „ 44 

THE    ENCAMPMENT    OF    THE    GIPSEY'S 47 

THE    GREAT    GATEWAY 51 

THE    GARDEN-HOUSE 53 

RUINS 54 

HE    HAS    CUT    HIS    THIGH 59 

FLY    AWAY',    LITTLE    BIRDS 63 

TAKING    A    RIDE    IN    CUBA       65 

AN    INUNDATION 68 

TWO    PAIRS     OF    FRIENDS 70 

BRUNIE    AND    BESS 71 

THE    SUMMER    MORNING 72 

COLD    NIGHT 75 


Xll  ENGRAVINGS. 

PAGE 

COMFORT     77 

THE    EVENING     OF    LIFE 79 

CLOSE    ATTENTION 81 

LAFAYETTE    PLACE    84 

FRAIL    BRIDGE 93 

SURF 95 

the  omnibus 97 

lafayette's  lesson 101 

lucinda's  bird 105 

he  is  mending  a  chair 108 

ALL    ALONE Ill 

HERON 119 

THE    WILD    GEESE    FLYING 125 

GEESE    ON    A    MARCH 127 

THE    WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW 129 

THE    LOG-CABIN 134 

A    COMPOSITION 136 

A    HIGH    LOAD ,  .  .  .  140 

GABLES ...  143 

GROUP    OF    BUILDINGS 146 

HAT    AND    BOOTS 148 

TRUMPET    AND    DRUM 149 

LOOKING    AT    THE    BUTTERFLY 150 

WADING 151 

THE    SHEPHERDESS 153 

TEACHING    BRUNO 155 

AN    UNFEELING    GIRL 157 


THE    STUDIO, 

STUDY  I. 

LEARNING    TO    DRAW. 


Some  account  of  the  frontispiece.  Arrangements  made  by  the  boy. 

TN  the  frontispiece  is  a  picture  of  a  boy  learning  to  draw.  He  is 
-*-  seated  at  a  table.  He  has  placed  his  model  up  before  him  in  a 
convenient  position.  He  has  contrived  to  support  it  in  this  po- 
sition by  means  of  a  portable  desk,  which  he  has  placed  upon  the 
table,  on  the  back  side  of  it.  The  desk  was  not  quite  high 
enough,  and  so  he  placed  two  books  upon  it,  to  aid  in  supporting 
his  model. 

The  boy  is  performing  his  work  very  carefully.  His  subject  is 
the  figure  of  a  man.  The  man  seems  to  be  a  Scotch  Highlander. 
The  human  figure  is  a  very  difficult  subject  to  draw. 

The  boy  has  placed  his  cap  on  the  back  of  a  chair.  The  dog 
lies  asleep  on  the  floor  in  the  foreground.  In  the  background  is 
a  book-case  well  filled  with  books. 

The  boy  is  teaching  himself  to  draw.  He  has  no  instructor. 
Any  boy  or  girl  can  learn  to  draw  by  themselves,  or,  at  least,  they 
can  make  great  improvement  in  the  art,  and  lay  such  a  foundation 
as  shall  enable  them,  when  they  have  a  teacher,  to  advance  to 
higher  attainments  with  great  rapidity. 


14  LEARNING    TO    DRAW. 


Of  drawing  materials.  Working  at  advantage. 

The  materials  really  necessary  for  practicing  drawing  are  very 
few,  and  very  easily  obtained.  For  practice,  almost  any  kind  of 
pencil  will  do,  and  any  kind  of  paper.  The  great  thing  to  be  done 
first  is  to  study  the  form  of  your  model,  and  to  represent  that 
form  correctly  in  your  own  drawing.  For  this  purpose,  any  sort 
of  paper  that  will  take  a  trace,  or  any  sort  of  pencil  that  will 
make  one,  will  answer  the  purpose. 

After  making  some  progress  in  studying  the  forms  of  objects, 
and  in  acquiring  skill  in  delineating  them,  it  is  certainly  much 
more  convenient  and  much  more  agreeable  to  have  good  drawing- 
paper,  and  good  drawing-pencils,  than  those  of  an  ordinary  or  in- 
ferior kind,  but  it  is  not  at  all  essential.  You  can,  in  fact,  learn  a 
great  deal,  without  any  pencil  at  all,  by  practicing  with  pen  and 
ink. 

There  is  one  thing,  however,  which  is  of  great  importance  to 
enable  you  to  accomplish  any  thing  successfully  in  attempting  to 
draw,  and  that  is,  that  you  should  take  the  right  position  in  doing 
your  work.  It  is  a  great  deal  better  to  sit  at  a. desk  or  a  table, 
than  to  hold  your  slate  or  your  paper  in  your  lap,  as  children  oft- 
en do.  In  this  latter  case  your  position  is  constrained,  and  the 
fatigue  and  awkwardness  of  holding  your  materials  in  one  hand 
while  you  draw  with  the  other — your  feet  perched  up,  perhaps,  all 
the  time  upon  the  rounds  of  the  chair,  as  seen  in  the  opposite 
engraving — will  effectually  prevent  your  doing  any  thing  well.  A 
good  position  is  indispensable,  if  you  wish  to  wTork  to  advantage. 

Some  children  think  that  they  can  not  learn  to  draw  because 
they  have  no  proper  models,  or  patterns,  as  they  are  sometimes 
called.     But  this  is  a  great  mistake.     Everv  picture-book  that 


LEARNING    TO    DRAW 


15 


Picture  of  a  boy  working  at  a  disadvantage. 


^>A^, 


WORKING    AT    A.    DISADVANTAGE. 


you  open  will  furnish  you  with  models.  The  engravings  in  your 
books  are  drawn  on  blocks  of  wood  in  the  first  instance — many 
of  them  by  the  best  artists — and  are  afterward  engraved  just  as 
they  are  drawn.  The  printed  impressions,  therefore,  in  the  books 
will  furnish  you  with  excellent  models  both  to  copy  and  to  study. 
What  I  mean  by  studying  a  model  is  examining  it  with  atten- 


16  LEARNING    TO    DRAW. 


The  handle  and  the  hinges.  iVIode  of  studying  an  engraving. 

tion  and  care,  in  order  to  see  in  what  manner  the  strokes  are 
made,  so  as  to  produce  the  required  effect,  with  a  view  to  imitat- 
ing it.  For  example,  look  in  the  engraving  at  the  frontispiece,  and 
see  how  the  end  of  the  desk,  with  the  handle  and  the  hinges  upon 
it,  are  drawn.  The  wood  of  the  desk  is  represented  by  perpen- 
dicular lines,  drawn  closely  together,  while  the  handle  and  the 
hinges  are  shown  simply  by  leaving  spaces  of  the  proper  form, 
white.  Look  very  closely  at  the  lines,  and  note  carefully  the 
breadth  of  the  strokes,  and  the  distance  between  them,  and,  as 
you  are  looking  at  this  shading,  imagine  that  you  are  endeavoring 
to  imitate  it  with  pen  and  ink,  and  consider  exactly  what  you 
would  do  in  such  a  case.  Examining  a  drawing  in  this  way  is 
called  studying  it,  and  such  an  exercise  is  of  very  great  import- 
ance to  those  who  are  learning  to  draw. 

It  is  an  excellent  plan  to  select  small  parts  of  pictures  like  this, 
and  then,  after  studying  carefully  the  mode  of  execution  in  the 
engraving,  to  imitate  it  as  closely  as  possible  with  a  pencil,  or  a 
pen  and  ink.  The  end  of  the  table  which  is  turned  toward  us,  in 
the  frontispiece,  wTould  be  an  excellent  subject  for  such  a  lesson. 
Observe  first,  closely,  how  the  work  has  been  executed  by  the 
artist  in  the  engraving.  See  how  he  has  represented  the  edge  it- 
self of  the  table,  by  short  perpendicular  strokes  placed  very  close 
together.  See  also  how  the  artist  has  made  the  edge  appear  to 
project,  by  simply  drawing  a  shadow  under  it.  Observe,  too,  with 
what  sort  of  touches  the  knobs  for  the  drawer  are  finished,  and  how 
they  are  made  to  appear  to  project  by  means  of  their  shadows. 
Note  the  forms  of  these  shadows,  and  the  directions  in  which  they 
are  thrown,  and  the  horizontal  line  beneath  the  knobs,  denoting 


THE     SAIL-BOAT. 


Many  good  lessons  in  one  picture.  The  dog  on  the  carpet. 

the  bottom  of  the  drawer.  After  having  thus  studied  every  part 
of  the  work  very  carefully,  take  a  pencil  or  a  pen,  and  attempt  to 
imitate  it  as  closely  as  you  can,  drawing  the  end  of  the  table  only, 
and  omitting  all  the  rest  of  the  design. 

After  you  have  finished  the  end  of  the  table,  however,  you  can, 
if  you  choose,  attempt  to  draw  the  desk,  and  the  pictures  upon  it. 
This,  however,  will  be  more  difficult,  for  the  artist  has  very  adroit- 
ly contrived  to  represent  the  white  paper  by  drawing  shadows  on 
the  wall  behind,  and  then  leaving  a  part  of  the  paper  white,  of  the 
right  form  to  represent  the  model  and  the  drawing-book.  This 
is  very  difficult  to  do.  Still,  those  who  have  had  some  practice  in 
drawing  may  undertake  it  successfully,  in  such  a  case  as  this. 

The  corner  of  the  carpet  in  front  of  the  boy's  chair  would 
make  another  good  subject  for  study  and  imitation. 

So  would  the  dog  lying  on  the  floor  in  the  foreground,  though, 
to  succeed  in  drawing  the  dog,  the  pupil  must  be  considerably  ad- 
vanced in  art. 


STUDY  II. 

THE    SAIL-BOAT. 


Here  is  a  party  in  a  sail-boat.  They  are  sailing  along  the 
shore  of  the  sea,  near  a  sandy  beach.  The  wind  is  blowing  to- 
ward the  shore.  This  we  see  by  the  position  of  the  sails.  They 
swing  off  toward  the  shore.  But,  though  the  boat  is  impelled  sole- 
ly by  the  wind,  it  is  not  driven  to  the  shore,  but  draws  off  from  it, 
into  the  wind,  as  the  sailors  say.  This  is  very  extraordinary. 
12  B       - 


18  THE    SAIL-BOAT. 


The  philosophy  of  sailing.  The  mainsail.  The  jib.  The  sprit. 

It  is  owing  to  the  manner  in  which  the  sails  are  set,  and  also  to 
the  action  of  the  keel.  The  keel  is  a  long  and  narrow  projection 
extending  from  stem  to  stern  underneath  the  boat.  It  tends  to 
prevent  the  boat  from  drifting  sideways,  and  thus  guides  it  in  its 
motion  through  the  water,  making  a  groove,  as  it  were,  in  the  wa- 
ter, for  itself  to  slide  in. 

The  sails  being  set  as  they  are,  the  wind,  blowing  from  the  sea 
to  the  shore,  strikes  them  obliquely,  and  is  reflected  from  them, 
as  it  were,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  drive  the  boat  forward  the  way 
she  is  headed.  The  helmsman,  seated  in  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
keeps  her  head  right  by  means  of  the  rudder.  We  can  see  the 
rudder  distinctly  at  the  stern.  The  handle  of  the  rudder,  by 
means  of  which  the  gentleman  who  is  steering  controls  it,  is  called 
the  tiller.  We  can  see  the  tiller  in  the  picture,  though  not  dis- 
tinctly. 

This  sail-boat  is  sloop  rigged.  She  has  a  mainsail  and  a  jib. 
The  large  sail  is  the  mainsail.  The  small,  three-cornered  one  at 
the  bows  is  called  the  jib. 

The  mainsail  is  kept  extended  by  the  pole  which  passes  up  di- 
agonally to  the  upper  corner  of  it  from  the  mast  below.  This  pole 
is  called  the  sprit,  and  a  sail  made  to  be  extended  in  this  way  is 
called  a  spritsail. 

There  are  three  gentlemen  in  this  boat  and  one  sailor.  The 
gentlemen  are  seated  in  the  stern.  The  proper  place  for  the  offi- 
cers in  a  ship,  and  for  gentlemen  or  visitors,  in  a  boat,  is  at  the 
stern.  That  is  the  place  of  honor.  The  seaman  is  forward.  He 
is  there  so  as  to  keep  a  look-out  ahead,  and  also  to  do  what  may 
be  required  about  the  sails. 


THE    SAIL-BOAT. 


19 


Return  of  the  sail-boat. 


Group  on  the  beach. 


The  proper  place  for  a  seaman  on  board  a  vessel  or  a  boat  is 
forward.     That  is  the  place  of  service. 


THE    SAIL-BOAT. 


Several  persons  are  standing  together  on  the  beach  looking  at 
the  sail-boat.  One  of  them  has  his  arm  extended.  This  one  is 
evidently"  a  sailor.  We  know  by  his  dress.  The  figure  is  small, 
but  it  is  very  evident  that  the  man  is  a  sailor.  It  requires  great 
skill  in  the  artist  to  give  so  much  character  to  so  small  a  figure. 
It  would  be  a  good  lesson  in  drawing  to  attempt  to  imitate  this 
figure,  precisely,  with  pen  and  ink. 


20  THE    SAIL-BOAT. 


An  important  principle  of  perspective  explained. 


To  the  right  of  this  group  is  a  person  alone.  He  is  far  back 
from  the  rest,  and  appears  to  be  coming  forward. 

Examine  this  figure  carefully,  and  see  if  you  can  discover  by 
what  means  the  artist  has  made  him  appear  to  be  so  much  farther 
back  than  the  rest. 

His  having  this  appearance  depends  on  two  circumstances. 
One  is,  he  is  smaller  than  the  others.  The  other  is,  that  his  feet 
are  higher  up,  in  the  view.  His  feet  are  nearly  in  a  line  with  the 
hands  of  the  other  men  as  they  hang  down  by  their  sides.  Both 
these  things  are  necessary  to  give  the  figure  the  effect  of  being  at 
a  greater  distance  than  the  others. 

If  this  figure  had  been  made  as  tall  as  the  other  men,  while  his 
feet  remained  where  they  are,  he  would  have  looked  like  a  giant. 

If  he  had  been  made  as  small  as  he  is,  and  his  feet  had  been  on 
a  line  with  those  of  the  other  men,  then  he  would  have  looked  like 
a  boy  standing  near  them. 

As  it  is,  he  looks  like  a  man  far  behind. 

If  the  artist  had  desired  to  represent  a  man  still  farther  back,  he 
would  have  made  the  figure  smaller  still,  and  would  have  placed 
the  feet  yet  higher  in  the  field  of  view. 

In  the  distance,  on  the  borders  of  a  creek  which  puts  up  there 
from  the  sea,  is  a  small  town.  Beyond  is  a  high  hill.  The  hill 
terminates  seaward  in  a  bluff,  which  we  see  in  the  distance  almost 
in  the  range  of  the  bows  of  the  vessel. 

Sea-gulls  are  flying  in  the  air. 


BOYS    BATHING.  21 


The  bathing  place.  Principle  of  perspective.  Illustrations  of  it. 


STUDY  III. 

BOYS      BATHING. 

It  is  a  warm  summer's  day,  and  the  boys  are  bathing.  They 
have  a  safe  place  to  bathe,  for  the  water  is  not  very  deep.  One 
of  the  boys  is  standing  on  the  bottom,  in  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

The  principle  of  perspective  which  was  explained  in  the  last 
study,  namely,  that  objects  that  are  meant  to  be  represented  at  a 
distance  are  drawn  smaller,  and  placed  higher  up  in  the  field  of 
view,  than  similar  objects  that  are  near,  is  illustrated  in  this  pic- 
ture. For  example,  the  boy  lying  on  the  bank,  in  the  foreground, 
is  meant  to  be  represented  as  quite  near  to  us,  and  the  lower  part 
of  the  outline  of  his  figure  is  in  a  line  with  the  very  lowest  edge 
of  the  picture.  The  two  boys  in  the  middle  of  the  water  are  far- 
ther up  in  the  picture,  and  they  are  also  drawn  smaller.  This  we 
can  see  by  their  heads  ;  the  heads  of  the  boys  in  the  water  being 
smaller  than  that  of  the  boy  on  the  land. 

Farther  back  is  another  boy,  whose  head  is  just  visible  above 
the  water.  This  head  is  smaller  still,  and  it  is  drawn,  too,  at  a 
point  higher  up  in  the  field  of  view. 

The  boy  sitting  on  the  bank  beyond,  being  even  more  distant, 
is  higher  up  still,  and  his  head  is  yet  smaller. 

Thus  the  rule  is  universal ;  when  objects  are  viewed  at  differ- 
ent distances  in  any  scene  that  we  look  down  upon,  those  that  are 
more  remote  will  always  appear  smaller  in  size,  and  higher  up  in 
place,  than  those  which  are  near. 


22 


BOYS  BATHING. 


Four  boys  in  the  water. 


Directions  for  swimming. 


LEARNING    TO    SWIM. 


There  are  four  boys  in  the  water.  The  one  who  is  nearest  the 
boy  who  is  standing  up  is  going  to  try  to  swim  ;  but  he  must 
let  himself  down  much  lower  than  that  into  the  water  if  he  wishes 
to  succeed.  A  boy  can  never  swim  with  his  head  and  shoulders 
so  high  out  of  the  water. 

In  fact,  when  a  boy  is  learning  to  swim,  a  very  essential  thing 
is  that  he  should  let  himself  down  into  the  water  as  low  as  pos- 
sible before  he  begins  his  paddling.  He  should  let  himself  down 
until  the  water  reaches  his  under  lip,  so  as  to  have  as  much  of 
his  body  submerged  as  possible,  without  carrying  his  mouth  and 
nose  under.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that  every  part  of  his  body 
which  is  above  the  water  tends  to  weigh  him  down,  while  every 
part  which  is  under  the  water  tends  to  buoy  him  up.    • 


-^BOYS    BATHING.  23 


Conversation  between  George  and  the  boy  on  the  bank. 


The  third  boy  in  the  picture  is  right.  His  body  is  wholly  sub- 
merged. We  see  nothing  of  him  but  his  head,  and  the  line  of  his 
shoulders  very  near  the  surface  of  the  water. 

The  fourth  boy  has  found  a  place  where  the  water  seems  to  be 
pretty  deep.  It  is  a  dark  and  gloomy -looking  place  where  he  is 
going,  near  a  high  fence.  This  fence  incloses,  I  suppose,  some 
gentleman's  garden. 

There  are  willow-trees  on  the  banks  of  this  stream.  There  are 
two  on  the  right-hand  side,  and  one  on  the  left.  A  group  of  boys 
are  sitting  and  standing  under  the  left-hand  willow.  Three  are  sit- 
ting, the  other  two  are  standing.  Two  of  these  boys  are  dressed. 
They  have  finished  their  bathing,  and  are  ready  to  go  home.  The 
other  three  have  not  yet  finished  their  dressing.  One  of  them  is 
standing  with  his  back  toward  us.  He  is  looking  at  the  boy  who 
is  wading  into  the  deep  place  in  the  water,  and  calling  to  him. 

"  George  !"  says  he,  calling  out  aloud. 

"Ay,  ay  !"  answers  George. 

"  How  deep  is  it  there  ?" 

"  Not  very  deep.     It  is  not  above  my  shoulders  yet." 

"What  sort  of  a  bottom?" 

"  Hard  sand." 

"  Any  sharp  stones  on  the  bottom  ?" 

"  No  ;  it  is  smooth,  hard  sand." 

After  a  little  pause,  the  boy  on  the  bank  calls  out  again, 

"  I've  a  great  mind  to  come  there." 

"Yes,  come  !"  says  George.     "  Come  !  do  !" 

"I  would,"  replies  the  other  boy,  "if  I  had  not  come  out,  and 
got  partly  dressed." 


24  BOYS    BATHING. 


A  small  drawing  lesson.  Importance  of  shadows. 

"  Oh,  that's  no  matter.     Come  !" 

The  boy  concludes,  however,  not  to  go,  though  he  resolves  to 
explore  that  region  thoroughly  the  next  time  he  bathes. 

This  boy,  as  he  stands  on  the  bank,  would  make  a  very  good 
subject  for  a  drawing  lesson.  His  figure  is  represented  by  very 
few  lines,  and  those  are  of  such  a  character  as  may  be  very  easily 
imitated  by  the  pen.  Examine  very  attentively  the  fine  shading, 
and  see  by  what  sort  of  touches  the  effect  is  produced.  With  a 
fine  pen,  this  kind  of  shading  may  be  very  exactly  imitated.* 

After  drawing  this  figure,  you  may,  if  you  please,  draw  the 
water  behind  it,  with  a  portion  of  the  fence,  and  the  head  of  the 
boy  who  is  wading ;  though  to  do  this  well  will  be  quite  difficult, 
and  perhaps  you  had  better  be  content  with  drawing  only  the 
figure. 

In  drawing  with  a  pencil,  the  paper  must  be  on  something  quite 
hard,  as  on  a  board  or  a  smooth  table.  The  cover  of  a  book  is 
not  usually  hard  enough.  The  pencil  produces  an  indentation  in 
the  paper  unless  the  paper  is  laid  on  something  quite  hard.  In 
drawing  with  the  pen,  this  is  not  necessary,  as  the  pen  does  not 
tend  to  indent  the  paper.  In  copying  models  from  engraved  sub- 
jects, such  as  those  in  this  book,  it  is,  perhaps,  better  to  use  a 
pen,  as  a  more  exact  imitation  of  the  model  can  be  made  with  ink 
than  with  lead. 

One  thing,  however,  as  has  already  been  said,  is  very  essential 
to  success  in  these  experiments,  and  that  is  a  right  posture,  and  a 

*  Observe  the  shadow  of  the  feet  on  the  ground,  and  do  not  omit  that,  if  you  at- 
tempt to  make  a  drawing  of  this  figure.  It  is  a  very  important  part,  and  must  be 
shaded  carefully,  as  in  the  engraving,  with  a  fine  pen. 


THE    FISHING-POLES.  25 


A  good  posture  very  necessary.  Story  of  Susan  and  Minna. 

chair  and  table  of  the  right  relative  height.  If  the  paper  upon 
which  you  are  drawing  is  up  on  the  top  of  a  thick  book,  or  on  a 
cushion  in  your  lap,  or  if  the  table  is  too  high  or  too  low,  so  that 
your  arm,  in  resting  upon  it,  has  to  be  held  in  a  constrained  po- 
sition, you  can  not  work  to  advantage,  and,  of  course,  can  not  do 
any  thing  well.  Remember,  however,  that  it  is  the  relative,  and 
not  the  absolute,  height  of  the  table  that  is  to  be  considered.  No 
matter  how  high  it  is,  if  you  put  something  in  the  chair  to  raise 
your  seat,  so  as  to  bring  your  arm  right  on  your  paper. 


STUDY  IV. 

THE    FISHING-POLES, 


A  girl  named  Susan  lived  in  a  cottage.  She  had  a  little  sister 
four  years  old. 

"  Susan,"  said  her  mother  one  day,  "  you  may  take  Minna  this 
morning  and  go  and  take  a  walk," 

So  Susan  took  Minna  and  went  to  take  a  walk.  Minna  won- 
dered at  every  thing  she  saw. 

Presently  the  two  children  came  to  a  bridge  which  led  across  a 
brook.  Below  the  bridge  were  some  boys  standing  on  the  sand 
fishing.     Minna  wished  to  stop  and  see  what  they  were  doing. 

So  Susan  stopped  and  leaned  upon  the  railing  of  the  bridge. 
Susan  was  tall,  and  she  could  look  over  the  railing.  Minna,  how- 
ever, was  so  small  that  she  looked  under  it. 

"  What  are  they  doing  ?"  asked  Minna. 

"  They  are  fishing,"  replied  Susan. 


26  THE    FISHING-POLES. 


The  boys'  fishing-poles.  Endogenous  and  exogenous  plants. 

"  Let  me  go  down  there  and  see,"  said  Minna. 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Susan.  "  It  is  wet  and  muddy  along  the  shores. 
We  must  stay  here  upon  the  bridge." 

The  boys  have  very  long  and  straight  poles.  They  are  cane 
poles.  The  reed  or  cane  grows  in  warm  climates.  It  is  a  very 
tall  and  slender  plant,  and,  being  hollow,  it  is  very  light.  It  is 
what  is  called  an  endogenous  plant.  There  is  one  grand  division 
made  in  the  classification  of  plants,  relating  to  the  manner  of  their 
growth.  Some  plants  grow  by  a  succession  of  fresh  layers  on  the 
outside  of  their  stems,  one  layer  every  year.  These  plants  are 
called  exogenous,  which  means  outside  growing.  These  trees  all 
have  a  bark.  The  use  of  the  bark  is  to  protect  the  new  layer  of 
wood  while  it  is  tender  and  soft. 

The  plants  and  trees  which  are  called  endogenous  do  not  grow 
by  outside  accretions,  but  by  a  general  expansion  of  their  whole 
substance  within.  These  plants  have  no  bark.  Endogenous 
means  inside  growing. 

Indian  corn  is  an  example  of  an  endogenous  plant.  It  grows 
by  a  gradual  expansion  of  its  whole  substance.  If  you  cut  across 
a  stem  of  Indian  corn,  you  will  not  find  any  concentric  layers,  as  in 
the  stems  of  trees,  but  only  a  sort  of  radiation  in  the  texture  of  the 
pith,  with  lines  running  from  the  centre  toward  the  circumference. 

Indian  corn  has  no  bark.  The  outside  surface  is  smooth,  and 
hard,  and  polished. 

The  ratan  is  another  endogenous  plant.  The  sugar-cane  is  an- 
other. The  palm-tree  is  another.  Finally,  the  reed  which  is  used 
for  fishing-poles  is  another.  None  of  these  plants  have  any  bark, 
or  any  successive  layers  in  the  structure  of  the  wood. 


THE    FISHING-POLES. 


27 


Picture  of  Minna  and  Susan  on  the  bridge. 


Endogenous  plants  grow  more  commonly  in  warm  climates,  es- 
pecially in  the  tropics.      Exogenous 
plants,  on  the  other  hand,  prevail  in 
v  ^  -  .      temperate  and  cold  regions. 
c^jg         In    most    varieties    of   exogenous 
plants,  the   successive  layers   of  the 
-    wood  formed  in  successive  years  can 
♦tojfcjjl  .tf        easily   be  discerned.     In   some,  this 

structure  is  more  appar- 
ent than  in  others.     In 
|/>    the  ash  it  is  very  appar- 


SUSAN    AND    MINNA. 


28  THE    FISHING-POLES. 


Directions  for  making  a  collection  of  "woods." 


ent  indeed.  But  in  the  stems  of  almost  any  of  the  young  trees 
or  bushes  that  you  find  in  the  woods,  if  you  cut  them  across,  you 
can  easily  see  these  successive  layers.  If  you  count  the  layers, 
you  can  tell  how  many  years  the  tree  or  bush  has  been  growing. 

You  may  easily  make  a  very  pretty  collection  of  the  different 
kinds  of  wood  in  this  way.  Select  round  sticks  of  the  different 
kinds,  all  about  two  inches  in  diameter,  or  of  any  other  diameter 
that  you  find  more  convenient,  and  saw  off  sections  of  them  about 
an  inch  long.  Then,  with  a  chisel  or  a  sharp  knife,  cut  the  sawed 
surfaces  smooth.  Then  put  them  into  a  cool  place  to  dry.  If 
vou  put  them  into  a  warm  place,  they  will  dry  too  fast,  and  the 
ends  will  crack.  A  good  way  is  to  put  them  in  a  box  and  cover 
them  with  shavings.  The  shavings  will  hold  the  moisture  and  not 
let  it  escape  too  fast.  It  will  escape  slowly,  however,  so  that  the 
wood  will  dry  in  time,  and  it  will  not  crack. 

When  the  specimens  are  entirely  dry,  rub  the  smooth  ends  with 
sandpaper,  so  as  to  make  them  perfectly  smooth,  and  then  varnish 
them,  both  around  the  sides  and  on  the  ends.  This  will  bring  out 
the  colors  of  the  bark  and  of  the  wood,  and  show  more  plainly  the 
layers  of  the  grain. 

In  the  course  of  a  year  or  two  you  can  get  a  large  number  of 
specimens  from  the  woods  near  where  you  live,  only  taking  care 
not  to  cut  down  any  valuable  young  trees  to  procure  them. 

If  you  live  at  the  North,  you  can  ask  some  friend  who  is  going 
to  the  South,  or  to  the  East  Indies,  to  bring  you  home  a  short 
piece  of  the  stem  of  the  sugar-cane,  or  of  the  mahogany -tree,  or 
the  ebony-tree,  or  the  rosewood-tree,  or  any  other  specimen  that 
would  make  a  peculiarly  valuable  addition  to  your  collection. 


A    PRINCIPLE    OF    PERSPECTIVE.  29 


A  principle  of  perspective  farther  explained. 


STUDY   V. 

A    PRINCIPLE    OF    PERSPECTIVE. 

Objects  seen  at  a  distance  appear  smaller  than  when  they  are 
near.  This  principle  has  already  been  stated,  and  in  some  de- 
gree explained,  in  the  previous  Studies.  I  introduce  it  again  here 
for  the  purpose  of  showing  you  a  curious  consequence  which 
flows  from  it,  in  respect  to  the  apparent  direction  of  certain  lines, 
when  seen  in  reality  or  in  a  picture — lines,  namely,  which  recede 
directly  from  the  spectator. 

From  this  principle,  then,  that  an  object,  when  distant,  appears 
smaller  than  when  near,  it  follows  that  any  parallel  lines  seen  in  the 
picture — such  as  those  which  form  the  two  sides  of  a  room,  or 
of  a  street,  or  of  a  bridge — that  recede  from  the  place  where  the 
spectator  stands,  will  appear  to  converge,  that  is,  to  come  to- 
gether. 

Attend  closely  to  the  reasoning  in  this  case.  I  say  it  follows, 
from  the  fact  that  objects  at  a  distance  seem  smaller  than  those 
which  are  near,  that  lines  directly  receding  from  the  eye  will  ap- 
pear to  converge. 

How  does  this  follow  ? 

Thus: 

On  the  following  page  we  have  a  view  of  a  long  rail-road 
bridge,  with  the  rail-road  traversing  it.  The  iron  rails  rest  upon 
wooden  cross-pieces  called  ties.  These  ties  are  imbedded  in  the 
ground,  and  support  the  rails. 


30 


A    PRINCIPLE    IN    PERSPECTIVE. 


The  rail- way  bridge. 


A  principle  of  perspective. 


Reasoning. 


Now,  since  objects  appear 
smaller  at  a  distance  than  when 
near,  it  follows  that  the  tie 
which  is  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  bridge  must  seem  shorter 
than  the  one  which  is  at  this 
end  of  it,  and  as  the  ties  rep- 
resent the  distance  of  the  rails 
apart,  it  follows  that  where  the 
ties  appear  shorter,  the  rails 
must  appear  to  be  nearer  to- 
gether. Thus  the  rails  seem  to 
converge  as  they  recede  from 
This  is  seen  very  clearly  in  the  above  engrav- 


PERSPEOTIVE 


the  spectator. 

ing- 

It  is  the  same  with  the  sides  of  the  bridge.  The  plank  which 
is  at  the  farther  end,  being  more  distant,  must  appear  shorter  than 
the  one  at  this  end.  This  will  bring  the  sides  of  the  bridge  nearer 
together  at  the  farther  end. 

This  reasoning  will  apply  also  to  the  railing  of  the  bridge. 
The  top  of  the  railing  will  seem  much  nearer  to  the  floor  of  the 
bridge  at  the  farther  end  than  at  this  one,  because  the  posts  which 
support  the  railing  will  appear  much  shorter  at  that  distance. 

We  see  that  it  is  so  in  the  engraving.  The  edges  of  the  bridge, 
the  railing  of  it,  and  the  rails  of  the  road,  all  appear  to  converge 
as  they  recede,  so  that,  although,  in  the  foreground,  they  are  very 
wide  apart,  in  the  distance  they  almost  come  together.  If  the 
lines  had  been  continued  a  little  farther,  they  would  have  come 


A    PRINCIPLE    IN    PERSPECTIVE. 


31 


Another  application  of  the  principle. 


together  in  a  point  not  far  from  the  middle  of  the  funnel  of  the 
locomotive  which  is  just  coming  into  view. 

This  engraving  represents  a  view  on  the  Erie  Rail-road. 

The  same  principle  applies  substantially  to  irregular  lines  that 
appear  in  landscapes,  as  well  as  those  which  are  regular.  Thus 
the  shores  of  a  stream,  and  the  upper  and  lower  lines  of  a  mass 
of  foliage,  or  of  a  range  of  hills,  will  appear  to  converge  as  they 
recede.  You  can  see  this  very  distinctly  in  the  following  land- 
scape. The  shores  of  the  stream,  which  are  very  wide  apart 
near  the  foreground,  come  almost  together  in  the  distance. 

It  is  the  same  with  the  range  of  trees  and  shrub- 
bery on  the  left.     The  height  of  the  wood  is,  in  re- 
ality, much  the  same  in  every  part,  and 
yet  the  lines  that  form  the  upper  and 
lower  edges  of  the  mass  of  foliage  con-    .. ,-  \ -\ 
verge — the  one  de- 
scending, and  the 
other  ascending. 

It  is  the  same 
with  the  high  bank 
or  ridge  on  the 
right  side  of  the 
river.     The  upper  converging  lines  in  landscape. 

line  descends,  while  the  lower  one  ascends.  The  hills  in  the  dis- 
tance, which  pass  across  the  field  of  view,  are  not  subject  to  this 
law.  The  principle  applies  only  to  lines  receding  from  the  spec- 
tator— that  is,  lines  passing  from  front  to  back  in  the  view. 

Observe  the  man  standing  on  the  log  in  the  foreground  of  this 


32  A    PRINCIPLE    IN    PERSPECTIVE. 

Sailing  on  a  log.  Differences  between  drawing  and  engraving. 

picture.  It  requires  a  considerable  degree  of  dexterity  to  stand 
in  this  way  upon  a  single  log,  afloat  in  the  water,  and  to  keep  it 
from  rolling  under  one's  feet ;  but  the  mill  men  and  lumber  men, 
who  are  accustomed  to  it,  do  it  without  difficulty.  The  man  has 
a  pole  in  his  hand,  with  an  iron  pike  in  the  end  of  it.  With  this 
pike-pole  he  is  endeavoring  to  seize  and  secure  the  other  logs 
that  are  floating  around  him.  He  intends  to  bring  them  all  in  to- 
ward the  shore.  Examine  carefully  the  form  of  this  man,  as  the 
artist  has  drawn  him,  and  the  kind  of  strokes  and  touches  by 
wnich  he  has  represented  the  logs,  and  the  ripples  in  the  water. 
This  group  can  be  very  well  copied  with  the  pen,  or,  by  enlarg- 
ing it  to  four  or  five  times  its  present  size,  with  the  pencil. 

Look,  now,  once  more  at  the  picture  of  the  rail-road  bridge. 
You  will  observe  that  the  railing  is  represented  by  white  lines  on 
a  dark  ground.  This  kind  of  effect  is  very  easily  produced  in  an 
engraving,  though  it  is  very  difficult  to  do  it  with  a  pencil  or  a 
pen.  To  do  it  with  a  pencil  or  a  pen,  you  would  be  obliged  to 
draw  carefully  all  the  dark  shades,  and  leave  the  white  lines.  To 
do  this  accurately  would  be  extremely  difficult.  In  engraving, 
the  artist  can  produce  white  lines  in  this  way,  on  a  dark  ground, 
very  easily  indeed,  but  it  is  only  black  lines  on  a  white  ground 
which  can  easily  be  copied  with  ordinary  drawing  materials. 

This  subject  will  be  more  fully  illustrated  in  the  next  engrav- 
ing. 


WHITE    UPON    BLACK. 


33 


Description  of  the  manner  in  which  designs  are  made  on  wood. 


STUDY  VI. 


THE    FKNCE. 


WHITE    UPON    BLACK. 

In  this  engraving  is  another  example  of  the  effect  produced  by 
white  lines  relieved  upon  a  dark  background,  in  the  upper  edges 

of  the  boards  of  the  fence. 
The  effect  is  spirited  and 
beautiful.  The  light  strik- 
ing thus  on  those  lines, 
brightens  up  the  picture 
very  much.  Such  lines, 
as  we  have  already  said, 
are  made  quite  easily  in 
an  engraving,  but  it  is 
very  difficult  to  make  them  in  a  drawing.  In  order  to  show  why 
this  is  so,  I  must  explain  how  these  engravings  are  made. 

The  design  is  first  drawn  by  the  artist  on  the  end  of  a  flat 
block  of  wood,  made  perfectly  smooth  for  the  purpose.  The  sur- 
face of  the  block  is  wThitened,  too,  before  the  designer  begins  his 
work,  so  that  he  can  draw  upon  it  easily.  When  the  drawing  is 
made,  then  the  engraver  takes  the  block,  and  with  a  magnifying 
glass  before  his  eye,  and  certain  very  peculiar  tools  in  his  hands, 
he  proceeds  to  cut  out  all  the  parts  of  the  block  which  were  left 
white,  and  leaves  all  those  parts  which  the  pencil  has  touched. 
Thus  every  dot  and  line  is  left,  and  all  the  spaces  between  the 
dots  and  lines  are  cut  away.     This  is  an  exceedingly  nice  opera- 

12  r        - 


34  WHITE    UPON     BLACK. 


The  manner  in  which  white  lines  are  made  in  an  engraving. 


lion,"  as  you  may  easily  perceive  by  looking  at  the  lines  which 
represent  the  clouds  in  the  foregoing  engraving.  Observe  how 
fine  they  are,  and  how  close  together.  The  white  spaces  between 
them  are  exceedingly  fine,  the  lines  being  very  close  together. 
And  yet  all  these  spaces  have  to  be  cut  out  of  the  wood,  and  the 
lines  left. 

So  with  all  the  white  spaces  in  the  foliage  of  the  trees,  and  in 
the  shading  of  the  field  between  the  twTo  fences.  The  water,  be- 
ing nearly  all  white,  is  cut  out  almost  altogether. 

When  the  block  is  thus  engraved,  it  is  put  upon  the  printing- 
press,  and  the  ink  is  applied  to  it.*  The  ink  touches  only  where 
the  wood  was  left.  It  does  not  penetrate  to  the  places  where  the 
wood  was  cut  away.  Then  the  paper  is  applied  and  pressed 
down.  The  effect  is,  that  all  the  lines  are  transferred  to  the 
paper,  leaving  those  parts  of  the  paper  wrhich  come  over  the  parts 
of  the  wood  which  had  been  cut  away,  wdiite.  Thus  the  picture 
is  made. 

One  would  not  suppose  it  possible  that  lines  so  perfect  as  those 
which  we  see  in  some  engravings  could  be  made  in  this  way.  So 
apparently  incredible  is  it,  in  fact,  that  many  persons  are  cmite  un- 
willing to  receive  the  explanation  when  it  is  made.  But  so  it  is. 
Every  white  space  that  you  see — even  those  that  lie  between  the 
finest  lines  of  the  most  delicate  shading — is  produced  by  a  nice 
cutting  away  of  the  wood  in  the  face  of  the  block  from  which  the 
impression  is  made.  To  cut  out  all  these  fine  lines  is  a  wTork  of 
great  labor.     It  takes  sometimes  several  wTeeks  to  engrave  a  single 

*  The  ink  is  thick  and  tenacious,  like  pitch,  and  is  put  on  very  sparingly  and  care- 
fully, with  a  roller. 


WHITE    UPON    BLACK.  35 


Farther  account  of  the  process  of  wood  engraving. 


block,  and.  the  cost  of  doing  it  is  very  great ;  but  when  the 
block  is  once  engraved,  pictures  can  be  printed  from  it  with 
great  rapidity.  Thus,  though  the  block  itself  costs  a  great  deal, 
the  pictures  that  are  made  from  it,  when  it  is  finished,  cost  but 
little.  Sometimes  a  hundred  thousand  copies  are  made  from  one 
block,  and  the  cost  of  the  block,  averaged  upon  all  these,  makes 
a  very  small  sum  for  each. 

The  cutting  of  the  block  for  a  fine  engraving  is  a  very  delicate 
wrork,  and  it  is  quite  trying  to  the  eyes  of  the  workman.  The 
work  is  so  fine  that  he  can  not  do  it  with  the  naked  eye.  He  uses 
a  magnifying  glass.  The  magnifying  glass  is  attached  to  the  end 
of  a  rod  which  comes  up  from  the  desk,  and  is  bent  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  bring  the  magnifying  glass  directly  under  the  en- 
graver's eye  as  he  sits  at  his  work.  This  saves  him  the  trouble 
of  holding  it,  and  leaves  both  his  hands  at  liberty.  With  one  of 
his  hands  he  holds  the  block,  and  with  the  other  he  manages  his 
tool.  He  supports  the  block  upon  a  little  stand  made  for  it  on 
the  desk  before  him. 

This  being  the  way  that  pictures  are  made  by  means  of  an  en- 
graved block  of  wood,  it  is  plain  that  it  is  very  easy  to  make  a 
white  line  in  one.  All  that  is  necessary  is  to  cut  a  smooth  straight 
line  in  the  wood  from  which  the  impression  is  taken. 
.  It  is  much  more  difficult  to  make  a  black  line  in  an  engraving, 
for  in  that  case  the  wood  on  each  side  must  be  cut  away,  leaving 
the  line  projecting. 

The  converse  is  true  in  drawing  on  paper  with  a  pencil  or  a 
pen.  In  this  case,  it  is  very  easy  to  make  a  black  line  on  a  white 
ground,  for  to  do  it  you  have  only  to  draw  the  point  of  your  pen. 


36 


WHITE    UPON    BLACK. 


Picture  of  the  snow-storm. 


The  poor  wanderers. 


or  of  your  pencil,  along  the  paper.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  very 
difficult  to  make  a  white  line  on  a  dark  ground,  for  to  do  it  you 
must  fill  up  your  ground  with  strokes  of  the  pen  or  pencil,  leav- 
ing the  line.     This  is  a  very  difficult  operation. 

When  choosing  models  for  drawing,  therefore,  from  engraved 


subjects,  avoid  all  such  as 
contain  white  lines  on  a 
dark  background,  or  white 
dots,  which  is  'substantially 
the  same  thing.  In  this 
engraving  we  see  a  wretch- 
ed family  traveling  in  a  snow-storm.  The  flakes  of  snow  are 
represented  by  white  dots  on  the  dark  background  of  the  sky  and 
of  the  figures.  These  white  dots  were  very  easily  made  in  the 
engraving.     All  that  was  necessary  was  to  cut  out  a  small  place 


OUT    IN    THE    STORM. 


WHITE     UPON     BLACK.  3? 


The  expression  of  the  figures.  The  donkey  under  the  tree. 

for  each  one  in  the  wood.  It  would  be  very  difficult  to  make  them 
in  a  drawing,  by  leaving  the  paper  white,  and  drawing  up  close  to 
them  on  every  side  with  a  pencil  or  a  pen. 

Observe  how  much  expression  of  discomfort  and  fatigue  the 
artist  has  given  to  these  figures.  The  poor  boy  is  crying  with  the 
cold.  The  sick  child  in  the  man's  arms  seems  to  be  dying.  Her 
wet  and  disheveled  hair  lies  over  her  father's  arm,  and  her  deli- 
cate foot  is  seen  hanging  apparently  lifeless  by  his  side.  How 
little  you  see  of  her  face  or  form,  and  yet  how  much  expression 
of  sickness  and  helplessness  that  little  reveals  !  The  mother  is 
very  tired.  She  falls  behind,  and  can  hardly  drag  her  weary 
limbs  along.  The  baby  clings  to  her  back,  cold  and  exhausted. 
The  girl  who  walks  by  the  side  of  her  mother  has  some  little 
strength  left,  but  even  she  is  very  tired,  and  wet,  and  cold. 

They  are  pressing  forward  toward  the  village,  thinking  that 
they  may  find  there  some  place  of  shelter  and  a  fire.  I  hope 
they  will  not  be  disappointed. 

Let  us  always  pity  the  poor. 

See,  too,  how  much  expression  the  artist  has  given  to  the  don- 
key that  stands  vainly  seeking  shelter  under  a  leafless  tree.  He 
bows  his  head  as  if  in  submission  to  the  storm,  and  looks  forlorn 
and  disconsolate. 

Copy  the  donkey  with  a  pencil  or  a  pen,  and  see  if  you  can 
give  to  your  drawing  the  same  character  and  expression  that  you 
see  in  the  original. 

The  tree  which  is  over  him,  though  very  finely  represented  in 
the  engraving,  would  be  very  difficult  to  copy,  on  account  of  the 
white  lines  of  snow  on  the  upper  sides  of  the  branches. 


38  CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 


Christmas.  The  birth  of  Christ.  The  English  parsonage. 


STUDY  VII. 

CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 

Christmas  is  the  day  that  is  celebrated  as  the  anniversary  of 
the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  celebrated  in  a  great  many  differ- 
ent ways  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  In  some  places,  how- 
ever, it  is  not  observed  at  all. 

The  place  where  Jesus  Christ  was  born  was  Bethlehem,  a  town 
a  few  miles  south  of  Jerusalem.  There  is  a  church  built  over  the 
spot,  and  the  room  where  Jesus  is  said  to  have  been  born  is  visit- 
ed by  great  numbers  of  persons  every  year  The  room  is  dark, 
being  a  sort  of  grotto,  but  it  is  kept  constantly  lighted  by  means 
of  a  great  many  silver  lamps. 

In  England,  the  people  of  a  country  village  come  sometimes 
early  in  the  morning  of  Christmas-day  to  sing  Christmas  hymns 
under  the  windows  of  the  parsonage,  as  a  salutation  to  the  pastor. 
The  engraving  on  the  opposite  page  represents  this  scene.  It  is  a 
cold  morning.  The  shrubbery,  the  trees,  and  the  roofs  of  the 
houses  are  covered  with  snow.  The  men  are  warm,  however,  be- 
ing comfortably  clothed,  and  they  stand  quietly  in  the  garden  of 
the  parsonage,  singing  their  hymn.  The  gate  is  open  where  they 
came  in. 

There  is  a  piazza  over  the  windows  of  the  lower  story  of  the 
parsonage.  The  roof  above  is  thatched,  but  the  thatch  is  now 
covered  with  snow.  There  are  two  projecting  windows  in  the 
roof,  but  thev  are  partly  buried  bv  the  drifts.     In  the  distance  is 


CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 


39 


Picture  of  the  parsonage  on  Christmas  morning. 


seen  the  spire  of  the  church.     Beyond  it  is  the  moon  shining  se- 
renely in  the  sky. 

In  this  engraving,  the  moon,  the  roofs 

of  the  buildings,  and  the  masses  of  snow 

---     -  lying"  upon  the  trees  and  shrubbery,  are 

^tL  _  lafe  all   represented   by  white   surfaces   re> 


THE    CHRISTMAS    SERENADE. 


lieved  against  a  dark  ground ;  but,  although  the  effect  is  pro- 
duced thus  by  white  upon  black,  it  is  not  one  which  it  is  particu- 
larly difficult  to  imitate  with  a  pencil  or  pen,  because  what  are 
delineated  in  this  case  are  white  surfaces,  and  not  white  lines. 


40 


CHRISTMAS    MORNING. 


Cold  morning. 


The  hav-rick. 


The  man  and  the  dog. 


It  is  much  more  easy  to  define  a  white  surface  by  drawing  the 
lines  of  shading  up  to  the  borders  of  it  on  all  sides,  than  it  is  to 
define  a  white  line  in  this  way. 

Look,  for  example,  at  the  ladder  leaning  against  this  rick  of 

hay.     It  is  formed  of 
,j;|S  --  very  fine  white  lines, 

which  it  is  easy  -to 
cut  in  the  wood,  but 
which  it  would  be 
difficult,  if  not  im- 
possible, to  leave  in 
drawing  upon  paper. 
This  rick  of  hay 
was  piled  up  here  in 
the  field  in  the  sum- 
mer, to  be  used  in  the  winter  as  occasion  might  require.  A  large 
portion  of  it  has  been  already  cut  off  and  carried  away.  The  man 
has  come  out  to  cut  some  more.  His  dog  is  with  him.  The  dog- 
is  sitting  down  on  the  ground  at  his  master's  feet.  The  top  of 
the  rick  is  covered  with  snow,  and  it  is  snowing  still.  The  man 
has  been  up  upon  the  ladder,  and  has  cut  down  as  much  hay  as 
he  can  carry,  and  has  tied  it  up  in  a  bundle.  The  bundle  lies 
upon  the  ground,  ready  to  be  carried  away ;  but  the  man  is  stop- 
ping a  moment  to  rest.  His  fingers  are  cold,  and  he  is  trying  to 
warm  them.  He  has  taken  his  stand  on  the  sheltered  side  of  the 
mow.  The  dog  by  his  side  looks  up  to  him,  waiting  till  he  is  ready 
to  go.  We  can  see  the  fine  sleet  driving  through  the  air.  This 
driving  sleet,  where  it  is  relieved  against  the  clouds  in  the  skv,  or 


UNDER    THE    HAY-RICK. 


'.LACK    UPON    WHITE. 


41 


Difficult  to  draw  white  lines. 


The  rocky  precipice. 


the  dark  side  of  the  moon,  is  represented  by  white  lines  ;  but  when 
it  is  relieved  against  the  snow,  as  is  seen  just  to  the  right  of  the 
man,  it  is  represented  by  dark  ones.  In  the  latter  case,  the  lines 
could  be  easily  imitated  by  the  pen.  In  the  former,  it  would  be 
almost  impossible  to  imitate  them. 


STUDY  VIII. 


BLACK    UPON    WHITE. 


Here  we  have  an  engraving  in  which  all  the  effects  are  pro- 
duced by  black  upon  white,  that  is, 
by  black  lines  upon  a  white  ground. 
This  work  can  be  very  exactly  imita- 
ted by  the  pen.  An  artist  accustomed 
to  work  with  the  pen  would  be  able 
to  imitate  this  drawing  so  precisely 
that  it  would  require  the  very  closest 
scrutiny  to  detect  any  difference  be- 
tween the  original  and  the  copy. 

In  undertaking  to  do  this,  his  first 
care  wTould  be  to  select  the  paper. 
He  would  take  different  kinds  of  pa- 
per, and  compare  one  with  the  other 
in  the  most  careful  manner,  in  order 
to  find  a  specimen  which,  in  color  and 
texture,  should  be  precisely  similar  to 
Then  he  would  try  the  ink.    If,  on  using  one 


HIGH    ROCKS. 


that  of  the  engraving. 


BLACK    UPON     WHITE. 


An  exact  imitation.  Precautions  to  be  used. 


kind  of  ink,  he  found  that  it  was  not  so  black  as  that  in  the  engrav- 
ing, or  was  of  a  different  shade  or  hue,  he  would  take  another  kind, 
and  another,  until  he  should  finally  match  the  original.  Then  he 
would  try  his  pens.  He  would  examine  the  strokes  and  touches 
of  the  engraving  with  great  care,  and  see  if  he  could  imitate  them 
precisely,  trying  one  pen  after  another  until  he  found  one  that  was 
right.  The  different  lines  in  the  drawing  might  require  different 
pens.  The  trees,  for  instance,  on  the  left,  he  might  perhaps  find 
could  be  more  conveniently  drawn  with  a  pen  of  not  so  fine  a 
point  as  would  be  required  for  the  nice  shading  of  the  rocks.  If 
so,  he  would  provide  himself  with  two  or  more,  as  might  be  neces- 
sary. 

He  would  then  practice  a  little  upon  a  spare  piece  of  paper  to 
see  if  he  could  imitate  precisely  the  different  kinds  of  lines — the 
firm,  smooth  strokes  which  form  the  stems  of  the  trees,  and  the 
fine  shading  of  the  rocks  ;  and,  above  all,  the  lightly -touched  and 
tremulous  lines  which  form  the  shading  of  the  distant  hills.  Aft- 
er he  had  thus  trained  and  prepared  himself  for  his  work,  he  would 
proceed  to  execute  it. 

All  this  particularity  in  respect  to  the  color  of  the  paper  and  of 
the  ink  is  not  at  all  necessary  for  those  who  only  wish  to  learn  to 
draw.  Such  niceness  in  these  points  is  required  only  when  you 
wish  to  produce  a  copy  that  shall  be  a  very  exact  imitation  of  the 
original  in  all  respects.  But  this  close  attention  to  the  precise 
character  of  the  lines  and  touches,  and  this  great  effort  to  imitate 
them  exactly,  in  their  character,  is  very  essential  to  those  who  wish 
to  make  rapid  progress  in  art. 

T  have  said  that  such  minute  particnlaritv  as  I  have  been  de- 


BLACK    UPON    WHITE.  43 


Niceness  of  ideas.  •  Story  of  a  mathematical  instrument-maker. 

scribing,  in  respect  to  the  points  of  pens,  the  color  and  the  hue  of 
ink,  and  the  hue  and  the  texture  of  paper,  is  not  necessary  as  a 
means  of  learning  to  draw.  It  is  very  useful,  however,  to  practice 
this  sometimes,  as  a  means  of  cultivating  the  habit  of  close  and 
minute  observation,  and  the  power  of  seeing  and  appreciating 
small  differences  of  color  or  of  form. 

There  is  a  great  natural  difference  between  different  minds  in 
respect  to  exactness  and  precision,  but  there  is  a  greater  difference 
which  results  from  education  and  habit.  I  was  once  conversing 
with  a  mathematical  instrument-maker  in  respect  to  the  workmen 
in  his  manufactory,  and  he  told  me  that  boys  from  the  country, 
who  had  been  accustomed  to  work  with  tools  on  a  farm,  and  had 
been,  consequently,  in  the  habit  of  noticing  when  their  tools  were 
dull,  and  of  watching  the  changes  of  the  edge  as  they  gradually 
sharpened  them,  acquired  thereby  what  he  called  nice  ideas,  and 
they  were  much  more  apt  and  ready  in  learning  to  manage  the 
nice  operations  of  his  work  than  boys  who  had  been  employed  in 
stores,  or  as  errand-boys  in  town,  and  who  had,  consequently,  had 
no  such  training.     But  to  return  to  the  subject  of  drawing. 

You  can  not  be  too  particular  in  noticing  the  nice  details  of  form 
and  of  touch  in  your  model ;  but,  in  copying  them,  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible to  take  too  much  pains  in  imitating  the  strokes  in  a  formal 
and  mechanical  manner,  when  it  is  far  better  only  to  imitate  them 
in  spirit.  Girls  are  more  in  danger  of  erring  in  this  respect  than 
boys,  and  they  should  consequently  be  very  careful  to  guard 
against  the  fault.  They  must  study  the  touches  in  the  model  very 
closely,  but  they  must  only  attempt  to  imitate  them  in  character. 

What  I  mean  by  imitating  the  touches  in  character  is  the  mak- 


44 


BLACK    UPON    WHITE. 


Important  direction. 


The  shop  front. 


ing  of  the  lines  in  the  copy  the  same  in  kind  with  those  of  the  orig- 
inal, so  that  the  shading  shall  have  the  same  softness,  and  shall 
produce  the  same  general  effect.  Take  the  clouds,  for  example, 
in  the  last  engraving.  It  is  obviously  of  no  consequence  that  the 
external  form  of  the  clouds  should  be  precisely  the  same  in  the 
copy  as  in  the  original,  for  that  form  is  constantly  undergoing 
change.  All  that  is  important  is,  that  the  clouds  which  you  draw 
should  be  the  same  in  kind  with  those  of  the  original,  so  as  to  have 
the  same  expression.  Any  unusual  expenditure  of  time  and  pains 
to  give  the  shading  precisely  the  same  outline  would  be  labor 
wasted. 

Here  we  have  another  engraving — one  of  shop  windows  in  a 


A    SHOP    FRONT. 


street,  which  is  a  very  striking  example  of  the  effects  produced 


BLACK    UPON    WHITE.  45 


The  drawing  of  the  panes  of  glass.  The  signs.  The  key. 

exclusively  by  black  lines  upon  a  white  ground.  All  this  can  be 
imitated  very  closely  with  the  pen.  The  whole  drawing  would, 
it  is  true,  be  too  much  for  a  beginner  to  undertake.  There  are 
some  parts  of  it,  however,  which  a  beginner  might  copy  very  ad- 
vantageously. 

The  effect  of  glass  in  the  sashes  of  the  windows  is  produced 
by  perpendicular  lines,  very  fine,  and  very  close  together,  drawn 
partly  down  the  pane,  and  then  shaded  off,  leaving  the  lower  part 
of  the  pane  white.  To  copy  one  or  two  of  these  panes  would  be 
one  very  good  lesson. 

There  are  two  signs  over  the  door.  The  lowermost  one  ap- 
pears to  lie  flat  against  the  wall,  while  the  upper  one  appears  to 
lean  forward.  Study  the  drawing  carefully,  and  see  if  you  can 
discover  how  it  is  that  the  upper  one  is  made  to  appear  thus  to 
lean  forward. 

If  you  succeed  in  finding  out  how  this  apparent  leaning  is  pro- 
duced, the  two  signs,  with  a  small  portion  of  the  windows  below 
the  lower  one,  will  make  another  excellent  lesson  for  you  to  draw. 

The  key  which  is  suspended  from  the  uppermost  sign  seems  to 
hang  off  from  the  lower  one  a  little  way.  This  effect  is  produced 
by  means  of  the  shadow.  This  shadow  is  made  to  fall  upon  the 
sign  obliquely,  and  is  thrown  off  at  a  little  distance  from  the  key, 
so  as  to  show  the  light  behind  the  key,  between  it  and  the  shad- 
ow. To  draw  this  key,  and  the  shadow  of  it,  as  it  is  in  the  en- 
graving, would  be  a  third  excellent  lesson. 

To  copy  the  words  on  the  lower  sign — drawing  the  letters  just 
as  they  are  drawn  in  the  engraving — would  be  another  excellent 
lesson. 


46  THE    GIPSEYS. 


Some  account  of  the  Gipseys.  Their  tents.  Construction  of  them. 


STUDY   IX. 

THE      GIPSEYS. 

Gipseys  are  a  wild  and  wandering  people  that  roam  about  En- 
gland, and  encamp  in  any  retired  and  shady  places  they  can  find, 
where  they  suppose  that  they  shall  not  be  molested. 

The  Gipseys  in  England  are,  in  many  respects,  like  the  Indians 
in  America,  both  in  appearance  and  manners,  and  also  in  modes 
of  life.  They  have  swarthy  complexions,  and  dark,  straight  hair. 
They  wander  about  from  place  to  place,  encamping,  when  they 
stop,  in  some  secluded  spot  on  the  margin  of  a  village.  They 
perform  no  regular  labor.  They  make  baskets  and  other  similar 
things.  The  Gipseys  pretend  to  tell  fortunes  too,  and  they  often 
gain  money  in  that  way  from  weak  and  foolish  people. 

In  this  encampment  there  are  two  tents.  They  are  placed  un- 
der the  spreading  branches  of  some  ancient  trees.  These  tents 
are  made  in  a  very  peculiar  way.  The  frames  are  formed  by 
slender  and  flexible  rods  of  willow,  with  both  ends  of  them  set  into 
the  ground.  These  rods  are  of  such  a  length,  and  the  ends  are 
set  in  the  ground  at  such  a  distance  apart,  that  they  form  in  the 
middle  an  arch,  which  arch  is  covered  afterward  by  a  sheet  of 
some  sort  of  cloth,  in  the  manner  represented  in  the  engraving. 

These  tents  are  very  small  and  low,  being  intended  only  to 
sleep  in  at  night,  and  perhaps  for  shelter  too,  in  rainy  weather.  In 
pleasant  weather  the  Gipseys  sit  upon  the  ground  outside.  They 
are  sitting-  so  now.     Before  the  first  tent  a  man  is  lying  down 


THE    GIPSEYS. 


47 


Picture  of  the  encampment. 


Food  of  the  Gipseys. 


Their  cooking. 


upon  the  grass  at  his  ease.  Farther  on  is  a  group  gathered 
around  a  dish  from  which  they  have  been  eating  their  dinner. 
One  of  the  women  has  a  baby  in  her  arms. 


THE    ENCAMPMENT    OF    THE    GIPSEYS. 


The  dinners  of  the  Gipseys  consist  sometimes  of  food  already 
cooked,  which  they  have  begged  at  a  neighboring  house.  Some- 
times, however,  they  cook  their  own  food.  In  this  case  they  build 
a  fire  of  the  chips  and  sticks  which  they  pick  up  on  the  ground, 
and  then  they  hang  their  kettle  over  it,  supporting  their  kettle  by 
means  of  three  short  poles  set  in  the  ground  around  the  fire,  and 
joined  together  at  the  top.  In  the  distance  we  see  such  a  fire, 
with  people  sitting  around  it.  Beyond  is  a  donkey.  The  Gip- 
seys use  donkeys  for  bringing  wood  for  their  fires,  and  also  for 
transporting  their  tents  and  their  furniture  from  place  to  place 
when  they  change  their  encampment.     They  have,  howcvser,  very 


48  THE    G1PSEVS. 


Story  of  an  Indian  boy  adopted  by  a  white  man. 


little  furniture.  Their  kettle,  their  fire-poles,  their  Wishes,  and 
one  or  two  baskets,  constitute  almost  their  whole  supply. 

Many  people  are  surprised  that  Gipseys  and  Indians  should  pre- 
fer to  live  in  this  uncomfortable  manner,  without  the  conven- 
iences of  civilization,  or  any  permanent  homes,  rather  than  to  join 
with  the  civilized  people  around  them,  and  live  as  they  do.  But 
the  reason  probably  is,  that  when  they  are  with  civilized  people 
they  are  always  so  looked  down  upon,  and  treated  so  much  as  a 
marked  and  inferior  race,  that  they  are  impressed  all  the  time 
with  a  certain  sense  of  degradation. 

There  was  an  Indian  boy,  once,  that  was  taken  by  kind  people 
when  he  was  a  child,  and  brought  up  carefully  as  if  he  had  been 
their  own  son  They  sent  him  to  school  where  he  could  be 
taught,  provided  him  with  comfortable  clothes,  and  gave  him  a 
room  and  a  bed  in  their  own  beautiful  mansion.  He  lived  with 
them  some  years.  They  tried  to  treat  him  just  as  if  he  were  a 
white  boy. 

Still  he  was  an  Indian  boy  in  fact,  and  wherever  he  went  this 
thought  was  forced  upon  him.  When  he  came  among  strangers, 
people  all  looked  at  him,  and  whispered  to  each  other,  That's  an 
Indian.  Whenever,  in  company,  any  one  sat  down  by  him,  they 
would  talk  with  him  as  to  an  Indian,  not  as  to  a  white  boy.  It 
was  evident  that  this  idea  was  never  out  of  their  minds.  The  peo- 
ple of  the  neighborhood,  in  speaking  of  him,  seldom  called  him  by 
his  name  :  they  spoke  of  him  as  Mr.  Thompson's  Indian  boy.  In 
a  word,  he  found  himself  marked  and  labeled,  as  it  were,  as  be- 
longing to  a  different  and  lower  race  from  those  who  had  so  hos- 
pitably received  him  and  had  treated  him  so  kindly.     He  felt,  al- 


THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY.  49 

He  goes  away  into  the  woods  again.  Great  gateway. 

ways  and  every  where,  that  he  was  a  foreigner — worse  than  a  for- 
eigner, in  fact,  being-  not  merely  of  another  nation,  but  of  another 
race — and  he  found  himself  surrounded  at  all  times  with  an  atmos- 
phere of  repulsion,  by  which  even  his  kindest  friends  were  kept 
back  from  any  thing  like  close  and  cordial  union  and  sympathy 
with  him.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  he  grew  up  and  was  able  to 
act  for  himself,  he  took  leave  of  his  kind  benefactors  and  went 
away  into  the  woods  again,  where  he  could  stand  on  an  equal  and 
honorable  footing  in  respect  to  his  fellow-men,  instead  of  being 
doomed  to  perpetual  and  hopeless  inferiority. 

Some  people  seemed  surprised  that  he  should  leave  his  comfort- 
able home,  and  all  the  pleasures  of  civilization,  and  go  back  to  skins 
and  wigwams  ;  but  to  me  it  seems  that  none  but  a  very  weak  and 
ignoble  spirit  could  decide  otherwise. 


STUDY  X. 

THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY. 


When  you  look  over  a  book  of  engravings  to  select  something 
to  copy,  it  is  best  to  choose  at  first  specimens  in  which  the  shad- 
ing is  light  and  the  lines  are  open.  Over  the  leaf  there  is  a  draw- 
ing of  an  ancient  gateway  which  is  of  this  character.  Almost  all 
the  lines  in  the  work  are  distinct  from  each  other,  which  gives  the 
drawing  a  very  open  appearance,  and  makes  it  easy  to  be  copied. 
This  kind  of  drawing  can  be  imitated  very  closely  by  the  pen. 
The  lines  of  the  shading  in  most  places  can  be  actually  counted, 
and,  if  necessary,  might  be  copied  precisely,  one  by  one.  Such  a 
12  D        -^ 


50  THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY 


Motives  of  boys  and  girls  in  their  attempts  to  draw. 


drawing  as  this  furnishes  excellent  practice  to  the  pupil  in  learn- 
ing what  is  called  the  touch,  that  is,  in  learning  precisely  how  to 
manage  his  pencil  or  his  pen,  so  as  to  produce  the  right  sort  of 
lines.  The  lines  are  very  different  in  character  as  well  as  in  form 
from  those  made  in  writing. 

The  only  way  to  learn  this  touch  is  to  imitate  some  part  of  such 
a  drawing  as  this — the  shading,  for  example,  of  the  end  of  the 
building  on  the  left — and  then,  after  carefully  comparing  the  copy 
with  the  original,  and  noting  the  difference,  to  try  again  and  again. 
With  proper  care,  you  will  find  that  at  each  attempt  you  come 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  original. 

To  pursue  this  course  requires,  however,  much  patience  and  also 
a  high  aim — a  much  higher  aim  than  most  boys  and  girls  have  who 
are  trying  to  learn  to  draw.  I  have  generally  found  the  motive 
which  actuates  young  persons  in  these  attempts  to  be,  apparently, 
not  a  wish  to  learn,  but  to  surprise  their  acquaintances  and  friends 
by  showing  what  they  can  already  do.  So  they  generally  like 
much  better  f o  draw  over  and  over  again  such  things  as  they  think 
they  can  already  draw  well,  than  to  practice  patiently  on  some 
new  exercise,  which  would  be  the  means  of  advancing  them  to 
higher  attainments. 

The  gateway  in  this  drawing  consists  of  two  towers,  with  loop- 
holes at  different  heights  for  archers  to  shoot  their  arrows  from,  at 
the  enemy.  Below,  and  between  the  towers,  is  a  bridge  leading  to 
the  gateway.  A  man  is  standing  on  the  bridge  ;  he  is  leaning 
over  the  parapet.  This  bridge  crosses  the  ditch,  which  is  a  canal 
filled  with  water  surrounding  the  fortress.  A  portion  of  the  ditch 
is  seen  in  the  foreground.     There  is  another  bridge  crossing  this 


THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY. 


51 


Picture  of  the  old  castle. 


ditch  nearer  to  the  spectator  than  the  one  which  leads  to  the  gate- 
way.    The  nearer  bridge  is  horizontal.     The  one  more  remote  is 


THE    GREAT    GATEWAY. 


inclined.  It  ascends  in  the  direction  of  the  gateway.  The  hori- 
zontal bridge  leads  to  some  cottage-like  buildings,  which  stand  on 
the  bank,  under  the  walls  of  the  castle._^ 


52  THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY. 

The  towers.  The  parapet  and  the  battlements.  Embrasures. 

The  towers,  and  also  that  part  of  the  wall  of  the  castle  which 
is  in  view,  are  surmounted  with  battlements.  These  battlements 
consist  of  a  parapet-wall  carried  up  as  high  as  a  man's  head,  with 
openings  left  here  and  there  through  which  ihe  men  behind  the 
parapet  can  look  out,  and  can  also  throw  out  their  weapons. 
They  can  stand  for  an  instant  before  the  opening  and  look,  or 
throw  out  a  dart,  or  shoot  an  arrow,  and  then  immediately  fall 
back  behind  the  parapet,  where  they  are  sheltered  from  the  weap- 
ons of  the  enemy. 

The  openings  in  a  wall  or  a  parapet,  made  for  the  purpose  of 
discharging  missiles  through,  at  the  enemy,  are  called  embrasures. 
The  embrasures  for  cannon,  m  the  walls  of  a  modern  fort,  are 
pretty  large.  Those  made  in  the  parapets  of  castles  and  towers, 
in  ancient  times,  were  much  smaller.  In  fact,  the  embrasure  is 
made  larger  or  smaller,  in  proportion  to  the  nature  of  the  missile 
which  is  to  be  sent  from  it. 

Any  thing  thrown  through  the  air  is  called  a  missile.  Thus  a 
cannon  ball,  or  a  bullet,  discharged  by  the  force  of  gunpowder,  is 
a  missile.  There  are  various  other  missiles  that  are  thrown  by 
the  force  of  gunpowder,  such  as  rockets,  bomb-shells,  and  the  like ; 
then  there  is  a  class  of  missiles  that  are  thrown  by  the  strength  of 
the  human  arm,  such  as  spears,  darts,  stones,  and  even  snow-balls. 

Every  thing  is  represented  in  the  preceding  engraving  by  lines 
so  simple  and  clear,  and  so  distinct  from  each  other,  that  they  can 
be  easily  imitated  with  the  pencil  or  the  pen 

On  the  contrary,  here  is  an  engraving  executed  in  a  style  which 
it  is  very  difficult  to  copy,  though  the  effect  is  very  soft  and  beau- 
tiful.    It  represents  a  garden  scene.     There  is  a  mass  of  shrub- 


THE    ANCIENT    GATEWAY. 


53 


Picture  of  the  garden-house. 


Expression  of  repose. 


bery  in  the  foreground  on 
the  left,  in  which  the  con- 
ical forms  and  dark  foliage 
of  evergreen  trees  is  finely 
contrasted  with  the  warm- 
er and  brighter  expression 
of  the  roses  and  flowers 
below.  In  the  middle  dis- 
p|j  tance,  on  the  left,  is  a  rus- 
tic building  used  for  stor- 
ing the  tools  and  the  seeds 
that  are  required  in  the 
garden.  It  has  a  wide 
door  in  front,  so  that  the 
gardener  may  go  in  and 
out  easily  with  his  wheel- 
barrow load  of  tools  or  of 
straw 

In  the  distance  we  see  the  roofs  of  houses,  and  the  spire  of  the 
church  rising  above  them.  The  whole  is  beautifully  drawn  and 
well  engraved,  and  it  wears  an  expression  of  quiet  repose  which  it 
would  be  extremely  difficult  to  imitate.  It  is  true  that  a  copy  in 
outline  of  this  view  might  easily  be  made,  and  afterward  shaded 
lightly,  in  a  style  adapted  to  the  pencil  or  the  pen,  and  it  would 
make  a  very  pretty  drawing-lesson  indeed,  but  the  peculiar  ex- 
pression of  soft  and  gentle  repose  which  the  original  wears  would 
not  be  preserved  in  it. 


THE  GARDEN-HOUSE. 


54 


THE    RUINS. 


The  ruins  of  the  old  castle. 


Roof  gone. 


STUDY  XL 


THE      RUINS. 


On  this  page  we  have  a  view  of  ruins,  which  is  drawn  in  a  style 
intermediate  between  those  of  the  two  last.     The  lines  of  the 


drawing  are  tolerably  distinct,  and  yet   many  parts   are  finely 
shaded.     The  drawing  represents  the  rains  of  an  ancient  castle. 


THE    RUINS. 


The  manner  in  which  the  windows  are  represented. 


The  roof  is  wholly  gone,  and  the  top  of  the  wall  is  fringed  with 
plants  which  have  taken  root  there,  from  seeds  wafted  through 
the  air  by  the  wind.  The  walls  themselves,  at  the  end,  on  the 
left,  and  in  the  rear,  have  fallen  down.  The  front  wall  still 
stands,  and  is  flanked  by  a  square  tower  at  the  corner,  on  the 
right.  The  door-way  remains  entire,  and  several  windows  are 
seen,  though  some  of  them  are  broken  away  into  ragged  edged 
and  misshapen  openings.  To  draw  such  a  ruin  as  this,  with  its 
crumbling  walls  and  its  broken  lines  of  masonry,  is  excellent 
practice  for  the  pencil  or  the  pen.  Before  attempting  it,  how- 
ever, the  precise  modes  in  which  the  various  effects  are  produced 
should  be  carefully  studied.  Observe  very  closely  by  what  lines 
and  combinations  of  lines  the  windows  are  represented,  and  the 
seams  and  fissures  in  the  walls,  and  the  shading  of  the  corners. 

Look,  for  example,  at  the  upper  window  on  the  left  hand.  I 
will  describe  the  manner  m  which  it  is  drawn,  to  illustrate  the 
particularity  with  which  every  part  of  the  drawing  should  be 
studied  before  beginning  to  copy  it.  The  frame  of  the  window 
is  represented  by  a  double  line  drawn  around  the  opening.  The 
lower  part,  however,  is  broken  away.  The  opening  itself  is 
shaded  by  fine  lines,  drawn  from  above  downward.  If  you  ex- 
amine these  lines  very  closely  indeed,  you  will  see  that  there  are 
five  of  them.  Although  they  lie  very  close  together,  they  do  not 
touch  each  other  in  any  part.  Besides  the  shading  produced  by 
these  lines,  there  is  a  mass  of  very  dark  shading  within  the  open- 
ing of  the  window  on  the  upper  side,  and  on  the  right  hand,  which 
gives  an  appearance  of  depth  to  the  opening,  and  produces  a  strong 
pffect. 


56  THE    RUINS. 


Mode  of  drawing  the  window.  Figures  in  the  foreground. 

Now,  in  copying  such  a  window  as  this,  it  is,  of  course,  not 
necessary  to  imitate  all  these  details  precisely,  but  it  is  very  use- 
ful to  study  and  understand  them.  Such  a  close  examination  of 
lines  and  touches  as  is  implied  in  the  preceding  description  is  ex- 
tremely important  to  enable  you  to  understand  exactly  how  effects 
of  various  kinds  are  produced  ;  and  a  very  precise  imitation  of  the 
model,  in  all  these  details,  line  by  line,  and  touch  by  touch,  is 
sometimes  useful  as  an  exercise,  tending  to  develop  and  train  the 
mind  and  the  hand,  to  close  observation  and  minute  and  precise 
execution  ;  but,  in  general,  it  is  best  to  work  much  more  freely  in 
copying  a  drawing.  A  true  and  faithful  copy  is  not  necessarily  a 
servile  imitation. 

In  the  foreground  of  the  picture  are  groups  of  figures  in  various 
attitudes.  Two  laborers  are  reclining  upon  the  grass,  resting,  per- 
haps, from  some  work  which  they  have  been  employed  upon  in 
a  neighboring  field.  A  gentleman  stands  near  them  asking  them 
questions  about  the  ruins,  and  listening  to  their  replies.  Their  dog 
is  upon  the  other  side  of  them,  and  he  seems  to  be  listening  too. 

Nearer  the  wall  a  man  and  a  woman  are  standing.  They  ap- 
pear to  be  looking  at  the  ruins. 

To  the  right  are  two  goats.  One  of  them  is  lying  down.  The 
other  is  standing,  and  seems  to  be  looking  out  over  the  water.  It 
may  be  that  his  eye  catches  the  white  sail  of  the  little  sloop  which 
is  passing  across  the  field  of  view,  and  that  he  is  wondering  what 
it  is. 


THE    HUMAN    FACE.  57 


Sculpture,  painting,  and  drawing.  The  wounded  boy. 


STUDY  XII. 

THE     HUMAN    FACE. 

One  of  the  highest  departments  of  art,  not  only  in  drawing,  but 
in  painting  and  in  sculpture,  relates  to  the  expression  of  the  human 
countenance. 

In  sculpture,  the  required  expression  depends  upon  the  form 
which  the  sculptor  gives  to  his  marble  by  means  of  his  chisel. 

In  painting,  the  end  is  attained  by  a  nice  arrangement  and  com- 
bination of  colors,  which  the  painter  selects  from  his  palette,  and 
applies  to  his  canvas,  with  infinite  labor  and  care. 

In  drawing,  the  expression  is  given  by  very  minute  lines  and 
touches  from  the  pencil  or  the  pen. 

To  express  the  passions  and  emotions  of  the  mind  by  the  form 
given  to  a  block  of  marble,  requires  great  genius,  and  long-con- 
tinued and  careful  labor.  To  do  it  on  canvas,  by  color,  requires 
talent,  long  practice,  and  a  cultivated  taste.  To  do  it  in  drawing 
requires  only  close  and  careful  attention. 

It  is  surprising  with  what  slight  touches  an  expression  can  be 
given  to  the  face  by  a  skillful  artist.  In  the  engraving  over  the 
leaf  we  have  an  illustration. 

A  boy  has  cut  himself  in  the  thigh,  and  his  companion,  another 
boy  of  about  the  same  age,  is  acting  the  part  of  surgeon  by  bind- 
ing up  the  wound.  There  was  not  time  to  bring  the  wounded  boy 
into  the  house  after  the  accident  occurred,  and  so  they  have  placed 
him  in  a  chair  by  the  door.     On  the  ground,  in  front  of  the  group. 


•3b  THE    HUMAN    FACE. 


The  expression  of  the  different  faces  in  the  group. 


is  a  basin  with  a  sponge,  and  by  the  side  of  it  some  cloths.  With 
these  the  young  surgeon  has  been  wiping  blood  from  the  wound 
before  applying  the  bandage.  The  name  of  this  young  surgeon  is 
Astley. 

Observe  now  with  what  minute  lines  and  slight  touches  the  sev- 
eral features  are  represented  in  the  faces  of  the  two  boys,  and  how 
marked  is  the  expression  in  both,  and  how  different  each  expres- 
sion is  from  the  other. 

What  is  the  feeling  which  the  expression  upon  the  face  of  the 
wounded  boy  denotes  ? 

The  feeling  of  pain. 

Is  he  giving  way  to  the  feeling,  or  is  he  endeavoring  to  bear  it 
patiently  and  with  fortitude  ? 

He  is  plainly  bearing  it  with  all  the  fortitude  in  his  power.  He 
is  faint,  perhaps,  from  the  loss  of  blood,  but  he  still  feels  the 
pain,  and  is  striving  manfully  to  bear  it.  How  plainly  all  this 
is  shown  by  the  few  black  dots  and  touches  that  represent  his 
features  ! 

Examine  these  touches  now  attentively,  and  see  if  you  can  dis- 
cover what  it  is  in  them  that  conveys  this  meaning.  The  effect 
is  produced  mainly  by  the  form  of  the  mouth,  which  is  drawn  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  appear  compressed,  and  the  nostril  is  also 
slightly  distended.  Examine  this  face  with  great  care,  and  then 
take  a  pencil  and  see  if  you  can  imitate  it.  You  will  not  succeed, 
probably,  but  the  attempt  will  be  extremely  useful  to  you ;  and 
after  making  it,  you  will  always  look  upon  drawings  of  the  human 
face  more  understandingly,  and  with  greater  interest,  than  before. 

To  copy  such  a  drawing  as  this  requires,  as  has  been  said,  only 


THE    HUMAN    FACE. 


59 


Picture  of  the  wounded  boy. 


HE    HAS  CUT    His    THIGH. 


60  THE    HUMAN    FACE. 


The  women.  The  mother's  distress.  Her  countenance. 

a  close  and  attentive  study  of  the  model,  and  a  minute  and  care- 
ful imitation  of  it.  To  produce  the  original  drawing  itself,  in  the 
first  instance,  is  a  very  different  thing.  To  do  that  requires  a 
somewhat  extended  knowledge  of  the  forms  which  the  features 
assume  in  different  states  of  mind,  and  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  various  expressions  are  given.  But  by  carefully  copying  a 
great  number  of  faces,  this  knowledge  is  gradually  acquired. 

Observe  now  the  expression  in  the  face  of  young  Astley.  Here 
there  is  no  indication  of  pain,  but  only  of  calm  and  serious  atten- 
tion. He  is  intent  upon  his  work — he  feels  the  importance  of  it, 
but  he  is  quiet  and  self-possessed,  as  one  ought  always  to  be  in 
such  a  case. 

Behind  the  boys  are  several  women  that  have  been  drawn  to 
the  spot.  They  feel  various  degrees  of  interest  in  the  case,  and 
the  countenance  of  each  has,  consequently,  its  own  peculiar  ex- 
pression. 

The  one  who  seems  most  agitated  and  distressed  is  the  mother 
of  the  boy.  She  stands  beside  him.  She  clasps  her  hands,  and 
her  countenance  expresses  great  anxiety  and  terror.  The  one 
who  stands  behind  the  patient's  chair,  and  seems  disposed  to  ren- 
der some  help,  if  she  can,  is  his  aunt.  Her  countenance  expresses 
sorrow  and  serious  concern,  but  she  is  evidently  much  less  terri- 
fied than  the  mother.  The  other  spectators,  who  are  coming  up 
behind,  show  various  degrees  of  emotion,  the  countenance  of  each 
conveying  its  precise  and  peculiar  expression. 

It  would,  however,  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  meaning 
and  expression  which  these  various  faces  assume  are  given  to  them 
altogether  by  the  lines  and  touches  with  which  the  faces  them- 


THE    HUMAN    PACE.  61 


A  curious  experiment  described.  Principle  illustrated. 

selves  are  delineated.  The  artist  derives  a  great  deal  of  aid  in 
producing  the  desired  effect  by  the  position  in  which  each  of  the 
figures  is  placed,  and  the  attitudes  which  they  severally  assume. 
For  example,  the  clasped  hands  of  the  mother  of  the  wounded  boy 
helps  us  very  much  in  interpreting  the  expression  of  anguish  which 
is  depicted  on  the  countenance.  In  the  same  manner,  the  droop- 
ing head  of  the  boy  aids  very  much  in  giving  the  fainting  expres- 
sion to  his  face  ;  and  the  raised  hand  of  the  woman  in  the  back- 
ground of  the  group  conspires  with  the  lineaments  of  her  face  to 
reveal  to  us  her  precise  state  of  mind,  and  makes  these  lineaments 
seem  to  have  more  meaning  than,  when  seen  by  themselves,  they 
would  really  convey. 

To  prove  this,  a  very  pretty  experiment  may  be  tried.  Take  a 
piece  of  white  paper,  large  enough  fully  to  cover  the  engraving, 
and  fold  it  in  half,  and  then,  with  a  pair  of  scissors,  cut  out  a  small 
semicircular  notch  on  the  folded  edge.  This  notch  should  be 
about  half  as  large  as  one  of  the  faces  of  the  engraving.  Of 
course,  when  the  paper  is  opened,  there  will  be  a  circular  hole  in 
it  large  enough  to  show  the  whole  of  one  of  the  faces.  By  laying 
this  paper,  now,  down  upon  the  engraving  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
bring  one  of  the  faces  within  the  opening,  you  see  the  face  itself 
alone,  while  all  the  accessories  are  concealed. 

If  you  cover  up  all  of  the  picture  except  one  of  the  faces  in  this 
manner,  and  show  the  face  alone  to  any  one  of  your  friends,  and 
ask  what  the  expression  is  which  the  artist  meant  to  convey,  he 
will  probably  be  quite  at  a  loss  to  determine  it.  But  when  you 
lift  the  paper  up,  and  let  him  see  the  whole  of  the  figure  and  the 
group,  he  will  then  see  and  understand  the  expression  of  the  face 


62    ■  THE    SNOW-BIRDS 


The  snow-birds.  Plan  of  the  boy  for  catching  them 

at  once      "  Oh  yes,"  he  will  say,  "  I  see  now.     It  expresses  pain, 
or  fear,  or  distress,  or  terror" — or  whatever  the  emotion  may  be 

In  order  that  this  experiment  should  succeed,  however,  it  is  nec- 
essary that  those  who  look  at  the  face  through  the  hole  in  the 
paper  should  not  have  seen  the  engraving  before,  for  they  must 
not  have  the  least  assistance  in  their  conjectures  from  recollec- 
tion of  the  scene. 


STUDY  XIII. 

THE    SNOW-BIRDS. 


These  boys  have  set  a  net,  and  are  expecting  to  catch  some 
snow-birds  in  it. 

The  net,  which  is  circular  in  its  form,  is  bordered  by  a  frame  to 
keep  it  extended.  It  is  set  up  on  its  edge  upon  the  snow,  and  is 
sustained  in  that  position  by  a  stick.  There  is  a  long  line,  one 
end  of  which  is  attached  to  the  stick.  The  other  end  the  boy 
holds  in  his  hand.  The  line  lies  very  loosely  on  the  snow.  The 
boy  must  first  slowly  draw  in  the  slack  of  it,  and  then,  if  he  pulls 
it  suddenly,  the  stick  will  be  pulled  away,  and  the  frame  will  fall 
down  upon  the  ground.  The  boy  will  not  spring  his  net  in  this 
1  way  until  he  sees  that  one  or  two  of  the  snow-birds  are  under  it. 
If  they  are  under  it  when  it  comes  down,  it  will  fall  over  them 
and  make  them  prisoners. 

There  are  two  snow-birds  hopping  about  upon  the  snow  near  the 
net.  They  are  neither  of  them  yet  under  it.  The  boy  is  watch- 
ing them  to  see  if  they  will  go  under  it.     Perhaps  they  may.     But 


THE    SNOW-BIRDS. 


63 


Picture  of  the  boy  and  the  snow-birds. 


if  they  do,  it  may  be  that  the  boy  will  not  catch  them.     They  may 


FLY   AWAY,  LITTLE    BIRDS  ! 

fly  away  the  instant  that  the  net  begins  to  fall,  and  so  escape  from 
under  the  net  before  they  are  caught. 

If  the  boy  catches  the  birds,  I  suppose  he  will  put  them  in  a 
cage  and  keep  them.  If  he  does,  I  hope  he  will  be  careful  to  feed 
them  well. 

Boys  sometimes  catch  doves  in  this  way.  If  they  do  so,  how- 
ever, they  ought  to  treat  their  prisoners  very  kindly  while  they 
keep  them,  and  give  them  their  liberty  as  soon  as  they  can. 

A  useful  lesson  in  perspective  is  to  be  learned  from  this  engrav- 
ing, which  is,  that  circular  objects,  when  seen  obliquely,  appear  of 


64  THE    VOLANTE. 


A  circle  seen  in  perspective  appears  oval. 


an  oval  form.  The  net,  or,  rather,  the  frame  over  which  the  net 
is  spread,  is  round,  and  it  looks  as  if  it  was  round,  while  yet  the 
actual  form  of  the  outline  of  it,  as  drawn  in  the  picture,  is  oval. 

It  is  only  when  they  are  seen  obliquely  that  circular  objects  like 
this  should  be  drawn  of  an  oval  form.  If  the  net  had  been  turned 
farther  round  this  way,  so  as  to  stand  square  before  us,  it  would 
have  appeared  round.  This  subject  will  be  illustrated  more  fully 
in  the  two  next  engravings. 

In  the  foreground  on  the  left  are  two  broken  branches  of  trees 
lying  on  the  ground.  To  copy  them  would  be  an  excellent  draw- 
ing lesson.  Observe  that  the  lower  sides  of  the  stems  of  these 
branches  are  shaded,  while  the  upper  edge  of  each  is  represented 
by  a  single  light  line.  Copy  these  branches  as  they  are,  and  then 
draw  others  of  different  forms,  composing  them  yourself. 

In  the  middle  distance,  on  the  right,  is  a  man  carrying  home  a 
bundle  of  sticks  upon  his  back ;  and  in  the  background,  on  the 
left,  is  a  man  a  gunning.  His  gun  is  over  his  shoulder,  and  his 
two  dogs  are  running  before  him,  endeavoring  to  find  some  game 
for  him. 


STUDY   XIV. 

THE      VOLANTE. 


On  the  adjoining  page  we  have  another  illustration  of  the  prin- 
ciple that  a  circle,  seen  in  perspective,  becomes  an  oval,  in  the 
form  of  the  wheel  of  the  volante.  The  volante  is  a  sort  of  chaise 
used  in  the  island  of  Cuba.     It  is  drawn  by  two  horses.     These 


THE    VOLAiMTE. 


65 


Another  illustration  of  the  principle. 


horses  are  driven  by  a  negro  slave,  who  rides  upon  one  of  them. 
This  arrangement  leaves  the  whole  of  the  carriage  for  the  ladies 


TAKING    A    RIDE    IN    CUBA. 


or  gentlemen  who  ride  in  it,  and  affords  them  an  unobstructed 
view.  And,  as  the  air  in  Cuba  is  almost  always  soft  and  balmy, 
and  the  sky  serene,  it  is  delightful  to  ride  there  in  a  vehicle  so  open. 

12  "P.         ~^ 


66  THE    VOLANTE. 


Errors  should  never  be  copied.  Clerical  errors. 

The  volante  is  represented  in  the  engraving  as  coming  toward 
us,  and  thus  the  wheels  are  seen  obliquely.  The  right-hand 
wheel  is  seen  in  full.  The  other  is  in  a  great  measure  concealed 
by  the  carriage  and  the  horses.  The  wheel  that  is  seen  shows 
the  oval  form  which  a  circle  assumes  when  seen  in  perspective, 
in  a  very  distinct  and  beautiful  manner.  To  copy  this  wheel 
would  be  a  very  difficult  lesson,  but  it  would  be  a  very  excellent 
one  to  any  pupil  who  has  patience  enough  to  examine  the  engrav- 
ing with  sufficient  attention,  and  to  imitate  it  with  sufficient  care. 
Such  a  pupil  will  observe  that  the  side  of  the  rim  of  the  wheel  is 
in  shadow,  while  the  edge  of  it  is  white,  and  that  of  the  forward 
part  of  the  wheel,  the  outer  edge  is  seen,  while  of  the  back  part, 
it  is  the  inner  edge  which  comes  into  view. 

Never  copy  errors  in  drawing.  Errors  are  very  likely  to  oc- 
cur in  drawing,  as  in  writing  or  in  printing.  An  error  in  writing 
is  called  a  clerical  error,  from  the  word  clerk,  which  means  a 
writer.*  An  error  in  printing  is  called  a  typographical  error,  ty- 
pography being  the  word  that  denotes  the  art  of  printing.  Now, 
as  it  would  be  very  absurd,  in  transcribing  a  passage  from  a  book 
or  from  a  manuscript,  to  copy  an  obvious  error  in  the  original, 
made  by  the  writer  or  the  printer,  so  it  would  be  equally  absurd 
to  copy  an  error  of  the  designer  or  artist  in  a  drawing.  Accord- 
inglv,  just  as  you  ought  always  to  understand  what  you  are  tran- 
scribing, and  correct  any  obvious  errors  which  you  may  find  in 
the  words  of  the  original,  so  you  ought   always  to  understand 

*  The  word  clerical  denotes  also  that  which  relates  to  a  clergyman  or  minister,  as 
well  as  to  a  clerk  or  writer.  The  reason  of  its  having  this  double  sense  is,  that  in 
very  early  ages  clergymen  were  the  only  men  who  were  taught  to  write. 


BOATS    UPON    THE    WATER.  67 


Description  of  the  figures  in  the  engraving. 


what  you  are  copying  in  drawing,  and  correct  any  manifest  error  in 
the  lines  which  the  draughtsman  or  the  engraver  has  fallen  into  in 
his  work.  Such  an  error  you  may  see  in  the  drawing  of  this  wheel. 
The  error  is  in  the  position  of  one  of  the  spokes.  The  spokes  of 
a  wheel  are  always  really  equidistant  from  each  other,  but  one  of 
the  spokes  in  this  drawing  is  placed  much  nearer  the  one  that  is 
next  below  it,  than  it  is  to  the  one  next  above  it.  In  copying  the 
wheel,  this  error  should  be  corrected. 

The  horses  in  this  engraving  are  very  beautifully  drawn.  Their 
harnesses  are  rich  and  highly  ornamented,  and  they  step  proudly 
and  gracefully  as  they  trot  along  the  smooth  road.  The  two  gen- 
tlemen who  stand  nearest  are  admiring  them.  Two  others,  stand- 
ing together  at  a  little  distance  on  the  right,  are  talking  together 
on  some  business  subject.  They  have  their  hands  in  their  pock- 
ets. The  one  whose  face  is  seen  in  profile  is  speaking  ;  the  other 
seems  to  be  listening  very  attentively  to  what  he  says.  Palm- 
trees,  with  tufts  of  long,  plume-like  leaves  growing  from  the  tops 
of  the  stems,  are  seen  rising  here  and  there  above  the  other  foli- 
age which  adorns  the  scene. 


STUDY   XV. 

BOATS    UPON    THE    WATER. 


The  water  in  this  river  has  been  swollen  by  the  rains  until  it 
forms  almost  an  inundation.  The  mill-wheel  is  half  submerged, 
and  the  cellars  of  the  houses  are  overflowed.  Men  and  boys  are 
going  to  and  fro  in  boats.     One  boat  is  loaded  with  valuable  goods, 


68  BOATS    UPON    THE    WATER. 

Starboard  and  larboard.  Reflections  in  the  water. 

which  the  boatman  is  taking  away  to  a  place  of  safety.  In  the 
other,  three  boys  are  going  out  upon  the  water  to  survey  the 
scene.  Two  men  are  seated  near  the  bows  of  this  boat,  rowing. 
The  larboard  oar  is  visible.  The  starboard  oar  is  concealed.* 
The  artist  has  very  prettily  represented  the  water  dripping  from 
the  end  of  the  oar. 


AN    INUNDATION. 


One  of  the  boys  holds  his  hands  over  the  side  of  the  boat,  so  as 
to  draw  his  fingers  through  the  water.  The  reflections  of  the 
white  sleeves  of  the  oarsmen  are  also  shown.  One  reason  why 
the  artist  made  the  sleeves  of  these  rowers  white  was,  that  he 
might  show  the  reflections  of  them  in  the  water,  for  it  is  by  show- 

*  The  starboard  side  of  a  boat  or  ship  is  the  right  side.  The  larboard  side  is  the 
left — as  seen  by  a  person  looking  from  the  stern,  forward. 


THE    MILKING.  69 


Variety.  The  setting-pole.  The  milkmaid  and  the  cows. 

ing  such  reflections  that  a  smooth  surface  formed  of  dark  lines  is 
made  to  look  bright  like  the  surface  of  water. 

The  middle  boy  of  the  three  who  sit  in  the  stern  of  the  boat 
is  dressed  differently  from  the  rest,  and  is  a  little  taller.  This 
gives  variety  to  the  group.  It  varies,  also,  the  reflections  in  the 
water. 

The  man  in  the  second  boat  is  not  rowing.  He  is  pushing  the 
boat  off  from  the  shore  by  means  of  a  pole.  Such  a  pole  is  call- 
ed a  setting-pole.  The  figures  in  these  boats  would  be  somewhat 
difficult  to  draw,  but  the  boats  themselves  are  excellent  studies, 
showing,  as  they  do,  the  different  forms  which  boats  assume  when 
seen  in  different  positions  on  the  water. 

The  group  of  buildings,  too,  on  the  farther  shore  of  the  river, 
with  the  roofs  in  their  various  positions,  the  windows,  round  and 
square,  and  the  foundation  walls  cf  masonry,  would  form  an  ex- 
cellent lesson  to  be  copied  by  the  pencil  or  the  pen. 


STUDY  XVL 

THE      MILKING. 


The  cows  have  come  to  the  corner  of  the  field,  and  they  stand 
there  resting  quietly  under  the  trees,  whde  the  milkmaid  milks 
them.  She  sits  upon  her  three-legged  stool.  The  pail  in  which 
she  is  milking  is  before  her,  concealed  from  view. 

Turn  over  the  leaf  and  you  will  see  the  cows  standing  und(  r 
the  trees,  and  the  milkmaid  sitting  on  her  stool,  but  not  the  pail 
in  which  she  is  milking.  _.■ 


70 


THE    MILKING. 


ISrunie  and  Less  at  the  milking 


rile  milkmaid  and  the  plowman. 


Another  pail  stands  on  the  ground  by  her  side.     The  cow  that 

she  is  milking  is  white. 
Her  name  is  Bess.  The 
other  cow  is  red.  Her 
name  is  Brunie.  The 
pail  which  we  see  is  al- 
ready filled  with  Bru- 
me's milk,  and  soon  the 
other  pail  will  be  filled. 
Then  the  milking  will 
be  done.  Brunie  is 
waiting  for  her  com- 
panion to  be  released, 
and  then  both  the  cows 
will  go  away  together. 
They  are  companions 
and  friends. 

The  milkmaid  has  a 
friend  and  companion 
too.  Her  friend  is  the  young  plowman  who  stands  on  the  other 
side  of  the  stile,  talking  with  the  milkmaid  while  she  is  milking. 
He  leans  upon  the  topmost  bar  of  the  stile.  He  is  tired  with  his 
day's  labor,  and  is  waiting  for  the  milkmaid  to  finish  her  task,  and 
then  they,  too,  will  go  away  together.  Although  he  is  tired,  he 
will  still  not  allow  the  milkmaid  to  carry  either  of  the  pails  of 
milk.     He  will  himself  carry  both  of  them  for  her. 

Thus  we  have,  in  the  peaceful  and  quiet  scene  represented  in 
this  engraving,  an  image  of  the  pleasure  of  companionship  and 


IfifiJtfBBP 


TWO    PAIRS    OF    FRIENDS 


THE    MILKING. 


71 


Brunie  and  Bess  in  solitude  and  seclusion. 


sympathy.  We  have  two  pairs  of  friends,  the  partners  of  each 
pair  being  drawn  together  by  a  very  strong,  though  invisible  tie. 
One  partner  in  each  pair  is  waiting  for  the  other.  When  the  man 
and  the  maiden  go  away  together  in  one  direction,  Brunie  and 
Bess  will  go  away  in  another,  and,  lying  down  upon  the  grass  in 
some  sheltered  spot,  they  will  ruminate  peacefully,  side  by  side. 


BRUNIE    AND    BESS. 


They  can  not  talk,  nor  can  they  in  any  way  communicate  their 
ideas.  They  will  have,  in  fact,  no  ideas  to  communicate.  They 
will,  however,  each  enjoy  the  presence  of  the  other,  for  to  have  a 
friend  and  companion  near  is  a  pleasure  even  for  cows. 


72 


REPOSE. 


Sometimes  an  artist  attempts  to  represent  an  idea. 


STUDY  XVII. 


REPOSE. 


Sometimes  the  artist,  in  making  a  drawing,  ^$30^ 
undertakes  to  represent  an  idea  rather  than  an 
object  or  a  group  of  objects,  or,  to  speak  more  pre- 
cisely, he  undertakes  to  express  an  idea  by  means 
of  the  object  or  group  of  objects  which  he  draws.  In 
the  above  engraving,  the  idea  which  the  designer 
seems  to  have  attempted  to  express  is  that  of  rural  repose 


REPOSE.  73 

Description  of  the  picture.  Images  of  quiet  and  repose. 

With  the  view  of  representing  this  idea,  he  has  selected  such 
objects  and  such  forms  as  shall  best  exhibit  the  aspect  of  calmness 
and  peace.  On  the  left,  in  the  foreground,  is  seen  a  small  surface 
of  water,  beneath  a  mossy  bank,  half  shaded  by  the  trees  which 
hang  over  it,  and  half  brightened  by  the  reflection  of  the  sun.  Be- 
yond is  a  church,  its  simple  and  massive  form  reposing  calmly  in 
the  still  morning  air.  The  tomb-stones  of  the  church-yard  are 
seen  clustering  under  its  walls.  The  gate  at  the  entrance  is  shut. 
No  one  is  coming  out  or  going  in.  By  the  side  of  the  great  gate 
is  a  smaller  one.  That  is  shut  too.  By  the  side  of  the  small 
gate  is  a  flight  of  steps  leading  over  the  wall,  for  children  to  go 
up  and  down  in  getting  into  the  church-yard  when  the  gates  are 
shut.'  At  the  top  of  these  steps  are  two  stone  posts,  one  on  each 
side,  to  keep  the  children  from  falling ;  and  beyond,  within  the 
yard,  though  out  of  sight,  are  steps  leading  down.  They  thought 
it  best  to  make  these  steps  for  the  children,  rather  than  to  allow 
them  to  pass  through  the  gate,  for  fear  that  they  might  leave  the 
gate  open. 

There  are  no  children  now  going  up  or  down  these  steps.  All 
is  solitary  and  still. 

Beyond  the  steps  is  a  large  cottage.  It  is  a  double  cottage,  and 
the  roof  is  thatched.  It  is  an  inn.  We  know  that  it  is  so  by  the 
sign  which  hangs  suspended  over  the  roof.  There  is  a  little  trough 
or  rack,  too,  by  the  side  of  the  door,  where  they  feed  the  horses 
of  travelers  that  come  to  the  inn.  There  are,  however,  no  trav- 
elers or  horses  there  now ;  the  doors  are  shut,  and  all  is  solitary  and 
still.  The  sun  shines  upon  the  roof,  and  the  foliage  of  the  trees 
that  rise  above  it  seems  to  repose  motionless  in  its  beams.     By 


74  THE    WINTER    NIGHT 


Figures  introduced.  They  harmonize  with  the  scene. 


the  side  of  the  inn  is  a  large  gate  leading  into  a  yard ;  but  it  is 
shut,  and  there  is  no  one  near  it. 

This  scene,  though  designed  by  the  artist  to  express  silence  and 
repose,  would  have  appeared  vacant  and  desolate  if  there  had  been 
no  living  things  to  be  seen  in  it.  The  artist  has  accordingly  in- 
troduced in  the  foreground,  on  the  right,  a  shepherd  driving  a  small 
flock  of  sheep.  The  shepherd  walks  very  slowly  along,  his  pack 
upon  his  back,  and  his  hand  hanging  by  his  side.  The  sheep  are 
scarcely  moving.  The  foremost  one  stands  looking  at  some  ob- 
ject that  has  attracted  his  attention,  and  seems  basking  in  the  rays 
of  the  warm  sun.  Still  nearer,  in  the  foreground,  is  a  kennel,  by 
a  fence  in  the  corner  of  a  yard,  with  two  clogs  asleep  on  the  straw 
at  the  door  of  it.  One  of  them  is  chained  ;  the  other  is  at  liberty, 
but  both  are  lying  asleep  in  the  sun.  Still  nearer,  a  pitchfork  and 
a  spade  are  lying  idle  upon  the  ground,  the  symbols  of  rest  from 
labor.  Thus  over  the  whole  scene  there  reigns  an  expression  of 
peace  and  repose. 


STUDY  XVIII. 

THE    WINTER    NIGHT. 

The  last  engraving  was  intended  to  represent  the  expression 
and  effect  of  a  warm  summer's  day.  The  one  on  the  next  page 
is  the  reverse.  The  subject  here  is  the  cold  and  gloomy  aspect 
of  a  wintery  night.  See  how  admirably  the  artist  has  succeeded 
in  accomplishing  his  object  in  this  case  as  in  the  other. 

The  man  upon  the  horse  is  the  English  postman  coming  to  the 


THE    WINTER    NIGHT. 


75 


The  postman  coming  with  the  letters  in  a  storm. 


MM**1 - 


COI.D    NIGHT. 


door  of  an  inn,  in  a  remote  rural  district,  to  deliver  his  mail.  He 
has  his  valise  strapped  on  behind  him.  His  mail-bags  are  by  his 
side.  There  is  an  expression  in  his  attitude  of  shrinking  from  the 
cold,  but  he  does  not  appear  to  be  particularly  tired.  On  the  con- 
trary, there  is  a  certain  briskness  in  his  air,  as  if  he  were  in  haste 
to  deliver  his  mail-bag  and  go  away.  We  see  beneath  him,  in 
the  snow,  the  tracks  which  he  madejn  stepping  restlessly  about 


76  THE    WINTER   NIGHT. 


The  night  is  windy  and  boisterous. 


while  the  innkeeper  was  coming.  He  now  regards  the  innkeeper 
at  the  door  with  a  lively  and  animated  look,  in  which  a  certain 
degree  of  interest  and  curiosity  are  very  plainly  seen.  He  turns 
his  face  away  from  the  sleet  and  rain,  which  are  driven  against 
him  by  the  blustering  wind  of  the  night.  That  the  night  is  blus- 
tering and  windy,  we  see  by  the  swinging  of  the  tavern  sign  and 
the  waving  of  the  horse's  tail,  the  driving  of  the  rain  and  snow, 
and  the  attitude  of  the  innkeeper,  sheltering  himself,  as  well  as  he 
can,  from  the  blast,  behind  the  half-opened  door. 

To  be  able  to  copy  forms  exactly  is  a  comparatively  simple 
branch  of  the  art  of  drawing.  It  is  sometimes  called  the  mechan- 
ical part.  Any  one  who  is  capable  of  close  and  attentive  observa- 
tion, and  of  persevering  effort,  can  succeed  in  learning  it.  But 
to  select  such  forms,  and  to  delineate  them  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  convey  the  expression  of  an  idea,  requires  genius. 

Compare,  now,  this  winter  night  scene,  as  represented  on  the 
last  page,  with  the  noon-day  scene  in  summer  of  the  last  study, 
and  observe  how  strong  the  contrast  is  between  the  two,  not  mere- 
ly in  the  objects  which  they  represent,  but  in  the  whole  character 
and  expression  of  the  view.  The  one  is  warm,  sunny,  and  glow- 
ing. The  other  is  cold,  chilly,  and  forbidding.  The  one  seems 
to  repose  in  an  atmosphere  of  calmness  and  peace.  The  other 
shows  us  a  night  wild  and  blustering,  with  sleet  and  rain  driving 
through  the  murky  air. 


THE    POET    ASLEEP. 


The  poet  asleep  by  his  winter  evening  fire. 


STUDY  XIX. 


THE    POET    ASLEEP. 

In  this  study  we  have  a  drawing  that  is  also  very  strikingly  ex- 
pressive, though  the  ex- 
pression is  of  a  character 
entirely  different  from 
either  of  the  preceding. 
It  represents  the  poet 
Cowper  asleep  before 
the  fire  in  a  winter  even- 
ing. We  do  not  actu- 
ally see  the  fire,  but  we 
see  the  glow  of  it  upon 
his  face  and  upon  the 
room.  In  the  fore- 
ground, on  the  right,  we 
observe  the  corner  of 
the  fender,  with  the  han- 
dle of  the  poker  resting 
upon  the  edge  of  it.  Ob- 
serve the  shadow  of  the 
poker  on  the  side  of  the 
fender  below.  Above, 
we  see  the  corner  of  the  mantel-shelf,  with  the  light  of  the  fire 
reflected  from  the  under  surface  of  it.     This  reflection,  and  the 


78  AN    EMBLEM. 


Description  of  the  furniture  of  the  room. 


strong  shadows  .which  we  observe  in  various  parts  of  the  picture, 
tell  us  plainly  that  the  fire  is  burning  bright.  See  how  the  sleep- 
er seems  to  be  basking  in  its  beams.  His  eyes  are  closed,  his 
hands  are  folded  upon  his  knees,  his  arm  rests  upon  the  elbow  of 
his  chair,  and  his  whole  form  has  subsided  into  such  an  attitude 
of  repose,  that  the  drawing  presents  us,  as  it  were,  with  the  visible 
embodiment  of  sleep. 

There  are  books  upon  the  table,  but  no  lamp  or  candle  there: 
It  is  obvious  that  there  is  no  light  in  the  room  except  that  of  the 
fire.  This  is  plainly  indicated  by  the  character  of  the  shadows 
which  fall  from  the  head  and  limbs  of  the  figure  upon  the  chair, 
and  from  the  manner  in  which  the  glow  of  the  fire  is  reflected  from 
the  table-cloth,  and  from  the  carpet,  and  from  the  curtain,  and  from 
the  person  of  the  sleeper,  and  by  the  dark  obscurity  which  reigns 
in  the  back  part  of  the  room.  We  see  no  furniture  beyond  the 
chair  and  table,  except  the  faint  outline  of  an  oval  mirror  hanging 
against  the  wall. 


STUDY  XX. 

AN     EMBLEM. 


Sometimes  the  drawing  which  the  artist  makes  is  expressive 
and  ideal  in  a  still  higher  degree  than  those  in  the  preceding  stud- 
ies, and  even  in  a  different  sense  from  those.  In  those,  the  sub- 
jects represented  were  scenes  of  external  nature,  which  the  artist 
idealized  only  by  giving  to  them,  as  much  as  possible,  their  true 
and  characteristic  expression.     Sometimes,  however,  an  artist  goes 


AN    EMBLEM. 


79 


A  symbolical  picture. 


Lines  from  Thomson. 


farther  than  this,  and,  taking  some  thought,  or  conception  of  the 
mind,  attempts  to  symbolize  and  embody  it  by  means  of  the  ap- 
propriate natural  images.  Such  drawings  as  these  require  a  po- 
etic genius  in  the  artist. 

This  engraving  is  meant  to  symbolize  the  analogy  between  the 


THE    EVENING    OF    LIFI 


close  of  human  life  and  the  winter  of  the  year.     It  was  drawn  to 
illustrate  the  following  lines  : 

"  'Tis  done  !     Dread  winter  spreads  his  latest  glooms, 
And  reigns  tremendous  o'er  the  conquered  year. 


80  AN    EMBLEM. 


Images  and  emblems  of  olrl  age. 


How  dead  the  vegetable  kingdom  lies  ! 

How  dumb  the  tuneful !     Horror  wide  extends 

His  desolate  domain.     Behold,  fond  man  ! 

See  here  thy  pictured  life  ;  pass  some  few  years, 

Thy  flowering  spring,  thy  summer's  ardent  strength, 

Thy  sober  autumn  fading  into  age, 

And  pale,  concluding  winter  comes  at  last, 

And  shuts  the  scene." 

An  old  man  reclines,  sleeping  in  his  chair,  his  countenance  in- 
dicating the  approach  of  death.  His  head  is  supported  by  pillows, 
and  the  few  scanty  locks  of  hair  which  age  has  left  him  repose 
upon  his  shoulder.  By  his  side  stands  an  hour-glass — the  usual 
and  appropriate  emblem  of  the  lapse  of  time.  In  the  foreground, 
on  the  right,  is  a  grave.  The  spade  lies  by  the  side  of  it,  and  the 
rope  also,  by  which  the  coffin  is  to  be  let  down.  The  man  beyond 
the  grave  is  a  pilgrim.  He  has  his  scrip  by  his  side,  and  his  staff 
in  his  hand.  He  is  drawing  near  to  the  end  of  his  journey,  and  is 
looking  back  to  survey  the  road  that  he  has  traveled  during  the 
day.  The  landscape  in  the  background  is  wintery  and  drear.  The 
foliage  has  fallen  from  the  trees,  and  the  ground  is  bare.  The 
only  appearance  of  flowers  and  verdure  that  remains  is  that  which 
adorns  the  margin  of  the  grave.  These  flowers  are  intended  to 
symbolize  the  beauty,  peace,  and  joy  to  which  the  soul  is  to  be 
ushered  in  passing  through  that  dark  and  gloomy  portal.  The 
life  and  beauty  which  have  gone  from  every  other  part  of  the 
landscape  still  linger  here,  as  if  to  cheer  and  sustain  the  heart  with 
a  promise  of  a  joyous  resurrection. 

In  the  distance,  the  sun,  obscured  by  clouds,  is  sinking  slowly 
down  to  the  western  horizon. 


THE    BLACKSMITH. 


81 


The  blacksmith. 


The  expression  of  his  countenance. 


STUDY  XXI. 


.THE  BLACKSMITH. 

This  is  the  picture  of  a  blacksmith.     Observe  the  expression 
-■~_-t  of  close  attention  in  his  coun- 

"- -;..  '  tenance.     He  grasps  the  iron 

in  the  tongs,  which  he  holds 
with  his  left  hand,  while  with 
his  right  he  wields  his  heavy 
hammer. 

He  is  looking  very  intently 
at  the  iron,  and  he   strikes  it 


now  with  gentle  blows,  as  he 
has  brought  it  very  nearly  to 
the  required  form.  Examine 
his  countenance  closely,  and 
see  if  you  can  discern  by  what  means  it  is  that  the  artist  has 
given  to  it  such  a  look  of  fixed  and  earnest  attention. 

In  the  background  of  the  picture,  behind  the  smith,  we  see  the 
face  of  the  boy  who  is  blowing  the  bellows.  The  expression  of 
his  countenance  says  that  he  is  tired  of  the  work,  and  wishes  to 
be  away.  We  do  not  see  the  bellows,  nor  even-  the  handle  of  it, 
nor  the  arms  of  the  boy  working  the  handle.  The  artist  has  con- 
cealed all  these  things  on  purpose,  in  order  that  he  might  tell  the 
whole  story  by  the  expression  in  the  face  of  the  boy.  How  evi- 
dent it  is  that  he  is  doing  one  thing  and-thinking  of  another — that 
12  F 


3LOSE    ATTENTi 


K2  the  blacksmith. 


The  principle  on  which  the  tongs  of  the  blacksmith  are  constructed. 

he  is  looking  away  from  his  work,  and  wishing  that  he  was  re- 
leased from  it !  To  express  all  this  merely  by  the  manner  of  de- 
lineating the  features  of  so  small  a  face  is  a  great  triumph  of  art. 

We  see  the  fire  burning  on  the  forge,  with  a  sort  of  hood  or 
funnel  above,  made  to  receive  the  smoke,  and  conduct  it  into  the 
throat  of  the  chimney.  The  anvil  rests  upon  a  heavy  block  of 
wood,  and  this  upon  a  solid  mass  of  masonry,  which  is  not  seen  in 
the  engraving. 

Such  a  foundation  is  always  built  where  an  anvil  is  to  stand,  as 
it  is  necessary  that  the  anvil  should  be  supported  in  the  most  fix- 
ed and  immovable  manner,  so  as  not  to  yield  in  the  least  under 
the  blows  which  it  is  to  receive. 

The  blacksmith's  tongs  are  made  on  a  different  principle  from 
those  used  about  a  domestic  fire.  It  is  not  necessary  that  they 
should  open  wide,  for  the  piece  of  iron  which  they  are  to  grasp  is 
always  small ;  but  it  is  necessary  that  they  should  hold  the  iron 
with  a  very  strong  grip,  that  it  may  not  be  moved  from  their  hold 
by  the  blows  of  the  hammer.  The  tongs,  on  the  other  hand,  for 
handling  wood  at  a  common  fire,  must  open  wide,  for  the  wood 
is  often  large  ;  but  it  is  not  necessary  that  they  should  grasp  the 
wood  with  any  extreme  tenacity.  The  blacksmith's  tongs  have 
long  handles  and  very  short  jaws,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  speci- 
mens in  the  engraving ;  and  the  fulcrum,  or  joint,  is  placed  be- 
tween the  handles  which  are  grasped  by  the  hand,  and  the  jaws 
which  hold  the  iron.  In  the  fireside  tongs,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
fulcrum  or  joint  is  at  the  top.  The  hands  take  hold  below,  near 
the  fulcrum,  where  the  motion  of  the  arms  is  small,  and  the  wood 
is  grasped  by  the  extremity  of  the  arms,  where  the  motion  is  great, 


THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT.  S3 


Lines  converging  in  perspective  to  the  point  of  sight. 


and  the  arms  can  open  wide.  Thus,  in  the  fireside  tongs,  a  large 
mass  can  be  grasped,  but  it  can  be  held  only  very  lightly.  In  the 
blacksmith's  tongs  only  a  small  mass  can  be  grasped,  but  it  can 
be  held  with  prodigious  force. 

The  deep  contrast  of  light  and  shade  in  this  drawing,  and  the 
smooth  and  soft  finish  of  the  work,  give  it  a  very  spirited  and 
beautiful  effect.  Examine  closely  the  dress  of  the  smith  at  the 
shoulder,  and  notice  the  peculiar  manner  in  which  it  is  shaded, 
and  also  the  wrinkles  of  the  dress  at  the  flexure  of  the  elbow. 


STUDY  XXII. 

THE    POINT    OP    SIGHT. 


The  principle  of  perspective  that  is  explained  in  the  Fifth  Study 
in  this  book  is  often  beautifully  illustrated  in  views  of  streets. 
The  principle  is,  that  lines  receding  from  the  spectator  will  ap- 
pear, in  the  drawing,  to  converge,  though  they  are  really  paral- 
lel. Accordingly,  when  we  look  down  a  street,  the  lines  which 
are  formed  by  the  architecture,  and  by  rows  of  objects  seen  in  the 
street,  all  seem  to  converge,  and  finally  to  come  together  in  the 
distance,  if  they  are  continued  far  enough. 

Over  the  leaf  is  a  view  of  a  street.  We  can  see  in  it  four  or 
five  of  such  lines  as  are  referred  to  above.  The  ed^e  of  the  side- 
walk  on  the  right  is  one.  So  is  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  on  the 
left,  only  it  is  somewhat  concealed  by  the  carriage  which  stands 
before  the  Astor  Library,  and  by  the  trees  beyond.  The  range 
of  the  roofs  of  the  houses  on  the  left^is  another  such  line  too, 


«4 


THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT. 


View  of  Lafayette  Place  in  New  York. 


only  it  is  somewhat  broken  by  the  roofs  of  some  of  the  buildings 
rising  above,  and  of  others  falling  below,  the  rest.  The  range  of 
the  tops  of  every  row  of  windows,  and  also  of  the  bottoms  of 
them,  as  well  as  that  of  the  tops  of  the  trees,  form  lines  which  all 
converge  to  a  point,  near  the  centre  of  the  picture,  at  the  end  of 
the  street. 

The  street  represented  in  the  engraving  is  Lafayette  Place, 


LAFAYETTE    PLACE. 


New  York.  On  the  right,  behind  the  trees,  is  a  range  of  very 
magnificent  houses,  called  the  Colonnade  Houses,  from  the  fact 
that  there  extends  along-  the  front  of  the  whole  block  a  range  of 


THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT.  85 


Lafayette  Livingston.  The  Astor  Library. 


marble  pillars,  which  form  a  very  grand  colonnade.  The  com- 
mencement of  this  colonnade  can  be  seen  near  the  foreground,  on 
the  right,  near  where  the  man  is  walking  alone.  On  the  opposite 
side  of  the  place,  near  the  foreground,  on  the  left,  where  the  car- 
riage is  standing,  is  seen  the  front  of  the  Astor  Library. 

In  one  of  the  houses  m  this  Place  there  lived,  a  short  time 
since,  a  wealthy  family  of  the  name  of  Livingston.  It  happened, 
singularly  enough,  that  there  was  a  boy  in  this  family  whose  name 
was  the  same  with  that  of  the  place  in  which  he  lived,  namely, 
Lafayette.     His  name,  in  full,  was  Lafayette  Livingston. 

One  rainy  afternoon,  Lafayette  went  into  the  Astor  Library  to 
see  the  books,  and  that  evening,  just  before  the  family  were  called 
out  to  tea,  he  told  his  little  sister  Lucinda  that  he  was  going  to 
learn  to  draw. 

"  Are  you  ?"  said  Lucinda. 

Lucinda  was  sitting,  at  this  time,  on  a  splendid  tabouret,  which 
stood  in  the  corner,  by  the  fire.  She  was  playing  with  her  kit- 
ten. A  tabouret  is  a  small  square  seat,  made  very  soft,  and  cov- 
ered with  an  embroidered  covering. 

"  Yes,"  said  Lafayette.  "  I  saw  a  magnificent  book  of  draw- 
ings in  the  Astor  Library  this  afternoon,  and  I  am  going  to  learn 
to  copy  them." 

"  I  should  like  to  learn  too,"  said  Lucinda ;  "  will  you  show  me  ?" 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Lafayette,  "you  are  not  old  enough  to  learn  to 
draw." 

Just  at  this  time  a  little  silver  bell  was  heard  ringing  for  tea, 
and  the  children  went  together  out  into  the  tea-room.  The  tea- 
room was  a  small  but  beautifullv  furnished  room.     There  was  a 


86  THE    POINT    OP    SIGHT. 


Lafayette's  request  of  his  father.  Various  kinds  of  pencils. 

rich,  soft  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  curtains  of  crimson  silk  to  the 
windows,  and  silver  plate  and  elegant  porcelain  on  the  table,  and 
a  gilded  chandelier  hanging  from  the  ceiling,  which  was  lighted 
up  brilliantly  with  jets  of  gas,  that  burned  resplendently  within 
cut  glass  globes. 

"Father,"  said  Lafayette,  "  I  want  you  to  give  me  some  money 
to  buy  a  set  of  pencils  with.     I  am  going  to  learn  to  draw." 

Mr.  Livingston  did  not  answer.  He  was  busy  reading  the  even- 
ing paper.  The  light  from  the  chandelier  fell  bright  upon  the  pa- 
per, as  Mr.  Livingston  sat  at  the  corner  of  the  table,  with  his  feet 
toward  the  fire. 

"  Father,"  said  Lafayette,  still  repeating  his  request,  "  I  want 
you  to  give  me  a  dollar  to  buy  some  pencils  with." 

Still  Mr.  Livingston  did  not  answer. 

"  Don't  interrupt  your  father,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston.  "  He  is 
reading  the  newspaper." 

"  But  I  want  some  money  to  go  to  Lockwood's,  after  tea,  and 
buy  me  some  pencils,"  persisted  Lafayette. 

"  You  don't  need  a  dollar  for  that,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston.  "  You 
can  get  a  very  good  pencil  for  sixpence." 

"  But  I  want  a  set  of  them,"  said  Lafayette.  "  They  come  in 
boxes.  There  is  an  H.,  and  an  H.  H.,  and  an  H.  H.  H.  And  then 
there  is  a  B.,  and  a  B.  B.,  and  a  B.  B.  B.  I  must  have  all  the  kinds, 
or  else  I  can't  do  any  thing  at  all." 

"  Then,  besides,"  continued  Lafayette,  "  I  must  have  a  Draw- 
ing Book." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  a  Drawing  Book,"  asked  his  mother: 
"  a  book  to  draw  in,  or  a  book  to  draw  from  ?" 


THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT.  ^7 


Lafayette  importunes  his  father  for  some  money. 


"  Why,  both,"  said  Lafayette  ;  "  I  need  both.  I  need  a  book 
of  drawing  paper  to  make  my  drawings  in,  and  then  I  need  a  book 
of  drawings  to  copy.     But  I  can  get  them  both  at  Lockwood's." 

Lockwood's  is  a  large  and  very  convenient  book-store,  below 
Lafayette  Place,  in  Broadway. 

"  Oh,  that  is  too  extravagant,"  said  Mrs.  Livingston.  "  You 
can  find  something  in  your  picture  books  to  copy  at  first,  and  a 
sheet  of  drawing-paper,  which  you  can  buy  for  a  shilling,  will  be 
enough  to  last  you  a  long  time." 

"  Oh  no,  mother,"  said  Lafayette,  in  an  imploring  tone,  "  I  must 
have  a  regular  drawing-book,  and  a  book  of  drawing  lessons,  or  a 
pack  of  drawing  cards.  I  can  get  all  I  want  for  three  or  four 
dollars." 

"  Father  !"  said  Lafayette.  Mr.  Livingston  had  got  to  the  bot- 
tom of  his  paper  on  one  side,  and  was  at  this  instant  turning  it 
over,  so  that  Lafayette  thought  that  now  was  a  good  time  to 
speak  to  him. 

"  Father,"  said  he,  "  I  want  you  to  give  me  three  or  four  dol- 
lars, to  buy  me  some  drawing  materials.  I  am  going  to  learn  to 
draw." 

"  Nonsense  !"  said  his  father.  "  You  would  only  draw  one  or 
two  lessons,  and  then  give  it  up.  It  would  be  money  thrown 
away." 

So  Mr.  Livingston  went  on  reading  his  paper,  sipping  his  tea 
from  time  to  time  as  he  did  so.  Mrs.  Livingston  made  a  secret 
sign  to  Lafayette  not  to  ask  for  the  money  any  more.  Lafay- 
ette understood  that  she  would  give  it  to  him  herself. 

Accordingly,   about  half  an   hour_jifterward.  Mrs.  Livingston 


HH  THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT. 


He  obtains  money  of  his  mother.  ,  He  goes  to  Lock-wood's. 


brought  her  purse,  and,  taking  out  a  five  dollar  gold  piece  from 
it,  she  gave  it  to  Lafayette,  and  told  him  that  he  might  go  to  Mr. 
Lockwood's  and  buy  what  he  required. 

So  Lafayette,  putting  the  gold  piece  into  his  pocket,  went  out 
into  Broadway.  He  held  up  his  finger  to  the  driver  of  an  omni- 
bus that  was  going  by.*  The  driver  drew  up  to  the  side-walk, 
and  Lafayette  got  in.  The  street  was  brilliantly  lighted  up. 
Thousands  of  people  were  going  to  and  fro  upon  the  broad  walks 
that  extended  along  the  sides  of  it,  while  omnibuses,  carriages,  and 
carts,  in  great  numbers,  were  thundering  over  the  pavement  in  the 
middle. 

Lafayette  soon  reached  the  book-store  and  went  in.  One  of 
the  clerks  showed  him  a  variety  of  boxes  of  pencils.  Lafayette 
chose  a  set  of  Faber's,  that  were  put  up  in  an  ornamented  morocco 
case.  He  then  inquired  for  drawing  books,  and  the  clerk  opened 
a  drawer  which  contained  a  great  number  of  them — some  English, 
some  French,  and  some  American — and  also  several  packs  of 
drawing  cards.  There  was  one  drawing  book  and  one  pack  of 
cards  which  Lafayette  liked  better  than  any  of  the  others.  For  a 
time,  however,  he  was  at  a  loss  whether  to  choose  the  book  or  the 
pack  of  cards,  and  so  he  finally  decided  to  take  both. 

He  also  selected  a  large  blank  book,  the  leaves  of  which  were 
formed  of  drawing  paper  of  the  best  quality.  The  price  of  it  was 
a  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents. 

He  bought,  also,  two  pieces  of  India-rubber  for  sixpence  each. 
They  were  fresh  and  nice,  oblong  in  form,  and  with  very  smooth 
sides  and  square  edges. 

*  Tn  another  Study  you  will  see  a  picture  of  a  New  York  omnibus. 


THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT.  89 


He  buys  his  materials.  He  repairs  to  the  library. 


On  reckoning  up  the  price  of  these  articles,  Lafayette  found 
that  he  would  have  three  quarters  of  a  dollar  left  of  his  half  eagle. 
So  he  concluded  to  buy  a  knife  with  that,  to  sharpen  his  pencils  with. 

Then  he  went  "home.  . 

Mrs.  Livingston  was  somewhat  sorry  when  she  learned  that 
Lafayette  had  expended  the  whole  of  the  five  dollars  upon  his  pur- 
chases.    She  told  him  that  he  had  been  too  extravagant. 

"However,"  she  added,  on  reflection,  "  it  is  no  great  matter,  aft- 
er all,  if  you  will  only  persevere  and  learn  to  draw." 

"Well,  I  will,"  said  Lafayette.  "  I  am  going  to  begin  this  even- 
ing. I  am  going  to  draw  in  the  library.  Come  into  the  library 
with  me,  Lucinda,  and  be  my  company." 

Lucinda,  who  was  always  very  kind  and  accommodating,  acced- 
ed very  readily  to  this  request,  and  so  the  two  children  went  into 
the  library  together.  The  library  was  a  very  elegant  room. 
There  was  a  large  and  handsomely-carved  library  table  in  the 
centre  of  the  room,  with  drawers  in  the  sides  of  it.  The  table 
was  covered  with  broadcloth,  and  was  furnished  with  two  massive 
bronze  inkstands,  and  with  all  necessary  writing  implements  in 
great  abundance.  There  was  a  beautiful  silver-bound  writing- 
desk  at  one  end. 

The  apartment  was  richly  furnished  in  all  respects,  with  cabi- 
nets, commodes,  globes,  statues,  and  other  similar  appointments, 
and  there  was  a  set  of  mahogany  book-cases,  with  plate-glass 
doors,  extending  across  the  whole  back  side  of  the  room,  and  filled 
with  costly  and  beautiful  books.  The  windows  were  hung  with 
splendid  damask  curtains,  and  between  them  was  a  desk,  with  a 
gas-burner  at  each  side  of  it.  _^ 


90  THE    POINT    OF    SIGHT. 


His  preparations  and  arrangements.  Conversation  with  Lucinda. 

"  I'll  light  the  gas,"  said  Lafayette  to  Lucinda,  "  while  you  turn 
the  register." 

The  room  was  pretty  well  lighted  when  the  children  came  in, 
for  there  was  a  small  chandelier  over  the  table  in  the  centre, 
which  was  kept  always  burning.  But  Lafayette  concluded  to  use 
the  desk  between  the  windows  instead  of  the  table,  so  he  wished 
to  light  the  burners  there.  He  accordingly  went  to  the  mantel- 
shelf, and,  opening  a  bronze  box  which  stood  by  the  side  of  the 
clock,  he  took  out  a  match,  and  with  it  he  lighted  the  two  burn- 
ers, while  Lucinda  turned  the  register. 

The  register  was  a  round  opening  in  the  corner  of  the  room, 
made  to  admit  hot  air  from  the  furnace  below.  The  room  was 
pretty  warm  when  Lafayette  went  into  it,  but  he  wished  to  make 
it  a  little  warmer. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  the  first  thing  is  to  sharpen  some  of  my  pen- 
cils." So  he  took  his  seat  at  the  desk,  opened  his  box,  and  began 
to  sharpen  his  pencils.     Lucinda  came  and  stood  by  him. 

"  What  a  pretty  box,  and  how  many  pencils  !"  said  she.  "  I 
think  you  might  let  me  have  one  of  them,  you  have  got  so  many." 

"  No  ;  you  could  not  draw,"  said  Lafayette.  "  You  are  not  old 
enough.     Besides,  you  have  not  got  any  paper." 

"I  can  find  some  paper  in  one  of  the  drawers,  I  think,"  said  Lu- 
cinda, speaking  in  a  mournful  tone,  as  if  she  was  sorry  that  La- 
fayette was  not  willing  that  she  should  learn  to  draw. 

Lafayette  did  not  reply  to  this  suggestion,  but  having  by  this 
time  sharpened  a  B.  and  a  B.  B.,  he  opened  his  book  of  drawing 
lessons,  and  began  to  look  over  them,  in  order  to  find  something 
that  looked  easy  to  be  copied. 


THE    POINT    OP    SIGHT.  91 


Lafayette's  opinion  of  first  lessons.  The  barn  and  the  barn-yard. 

The  first  drawing  lessons  which  Lafayette  came  to,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  his  book,  when  he  first  opened  it,  consisted  of  straight 
lines,  squares,  circles,  and  other  diagram-like  looking  figures. 

"  What  are  all  these  things  ?"  asked  Lucinda.  "  What  are  they 
pictures  of  ?     Do  you  know  ?" 

"  Oh,  they  are  not  pictures  of  any  thing,"  said  Lafayette. 
"  They  are  only  lessons  for  practice.  They  are  to  teach  us  to 
draw  straight  lines,  and  squares,  and  rounds.  But  I  am  not  go- 
ing to  draw  any  of  them.  I  am  going  to  turn  over  till  I  find  some- 
thing pretty." 

So  saying,  Lafayette  went  on  turning  over  the  leaves  of  his 
book,  in  search,  as  he  said,  of  something  pretty. 

"  But  I  should  think  you  ought  to  begin  at  the  beginning,"  said 
Lucinda.     "  At  least  I  would." 

"  No,"  replied  Lafayette.     "  I  want  to  find  something  pretty." 

Very  soon,  Lafayette  came  to  a  picture  of  a  barn,  with  a  wheel- 
barrow near  the  door,  and  some  hens  and  chickens  scratching 
about  the  ground,  in  the  barn-yard.  The  scene  was  represented 
by  only  a  few  simple  lines,  for,  being  near  the  beginning  of  the 
book,  it  was  intended  for  beginners. 

"  Ah  !"  exclaimed  Lucinda,  when  she  saw  this  picture  ;  "  draw 
that  barn,  and  the  hens  and  chickens.  That  is  very  pretty  in- 
deed." 

"  No,"  said  Lafayette.  "  That  picture  is  not  shaded.  Such 
pictures  as  that  are  only  meant  for  little  children  to  draw.  I  want 
something  that  is  shaded  and  finished." 


92  THE    FLUME. 


Lafayette  finally  makes  choice  of  a  model. 


STUDY  XXIII. 

THE    FLUME. 

After  examining  and  rejecting  a  great  many  lessons,  Lafayette 
came  at  last  to  a  decision.  The  lesson  which  he  chose  was  a  view 
of  a  chasm  among  rocks,  with  a  stream  and  a  waterfall.  In  the 
foreground  was  a  small  bridge,  made  of  a  single  plank,  and  sup- 
ported by  stakes  driven  down  through  the  water.  On  one  side 
of  the  bridge,  near  the  end,  where  the  bridge  was  highest  above 
the  rocks,  there  was  a  short  railing,  formed  apparently  of  a  bent 
pole.  Beyond,  on  either  hand,  were  perpendicular  rocks,  and  in 
the  distance  a  narrow  chasm,  through  which  the  stream  of  water 
was  seen  flowing.  This  stream  flowed  in  the  direction  toward 
the  foreground,  and  there  it  fell  over  the  rocks,  forming  a  beauti- 
ful cascade.  The  chasm  through  which  the  water  came  was  very 
narrow  and  very  deep.  A  large  stone  had  fallen  into  this  chasm, 
and  had  got  wedged  there  in  a  manner  which  seemed,  both  to  Lu- 
cinda  and  Lafayette,  very  curious  indeed.  Indeed,  it  was  this 
stone,  in  a  great  measure,  which  decided  Lafayette  to  choose  this 
lesson. 

Above  the  chasm,  upon  the  brink  of  the  precipice,  on  either 
hand,  there  were  fir-trees,  whose  tall  stems  leaned  precariously 
over  the  abyss. 

"  How  I  should  like  to  walk  down  along  that  bridge  !"  said  La- 
fayette. 

"  I  should  not  dare  to  so  there,"  said  Lucinda. 


THE    FLUME. 


93 


Lafayette's  model. 


Conversation  concerning  it. 


FRAIL    BRIDGE. 


"  And  I  should 
like  to  climb  up 
to  the  top  of  those 
rocks,"  added  La- 
fayette. 

"  You  certainly 
would  fall,"  said 
Lucinda. 

"No,"  replied 
Lafayette.  "Do 
you  see  that  log, 
extending  across 
the  gap  from  one 
side  to  the  other?" 

"No,"  said  Lu- 
cinda, "  it  does 
not  extend  quite 
across." 

"  Yes,"  rejoin- 
ed Lafayette,  "  it 
extends  across  it 
entirely ;  but  one 
end  of  it  is  part- 
ly hidden  in  the 
bushes.  Do  you 
suppose  I  should 
dare  to  go  across 
on  that  log  V 


94  THE    FLUME. 


Reasons  for  Lafayette's  choice.  His  mistake. 


"  No,  indeed,"  replied  Lucinda. 

"  I  should  dare,"  replied  Lafayette.  "  I  should  not  be  at  all 
afraid  to  go  across  on  it." 

Lafayette  had  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  his  own  courage. 

There  were  two  reasons  why  Lafayette  chose  this  lesson  for 
his  first  attempt  at  drawing.  One  was,  that  he  thought  it  a  view 
of  a  remarkably  pleasant  place ;  and  the  second  was,  he  imagined 
that  it  would  be  easy  to  draw.  Like  most  boys,  whose  motive  in 
drawing  is  not  to  learn,  but  to  make  a  display  to  others  of  what 
they  can  do,  he  looked  for  something  easy ;  but  he  was  greatly 
mistaken  in  supposing  that  this  subject  would  be  easy.  There  is 
nothing  more  difficult,  in  fact,  for  a  beginner  to  draw,  than  a  view 
of  rocks  and  water ;  for  the  objects  seen  in  such  a  view  have  no 
well-marked  and  familiar  forms,  by  the  outlines  of  which  they 
may  be  known  and  identified  to  the  imagination  of  the  spectator. 
The  artist  is  dependent,  in  copying  them,  upon  the  character  which 
he  gives  to  them  by  the  various  tints  that  he  can  impart  to  the 
shading  of  the  different  surfaces.  This,  now,  is  a  nice  and  deli- 
cate performance,  and  one  which  it  is  very  difficult  for  a  beginner 
to  imitate. 

Water  in  motion  is  especially  difficult  to  represent  in  drawing, 
whether  the  motion  be  the  running  of  streams  or  the  rolling  of 
waves.  On  the  opposite  page,  for  example,  is  a  view  represent- 
ing the  surf  rolling  and  breaking  upon  a  rocky  reef  at  sea.  The 
idea  is  expressed  in  such  a  subject  as  this,  not  by  means  of  char- 
acteristic outlines,  defining  expressive  and  familiar  forms,  but  by 
the  delicate  gradations  of  shading  to  denote  curved  and  broken 
surfaces.     This  kind  of  work  is  very  difficult  indeed,  and  such 


THE    FLUME. 


95 


Picture  of  the  surf. 


Remarks  upon  the  drawing  of  it. 


subjects  are,  therefore,  not 
at  all  suited  to  beginners. 
You  will  find  it  much  bet- 
ter, therefore,  when  you 
are  beginning,  to  choose 
subjects  in  which  the  ex- 
pression and  effect  of  the 
drawing  depend  more  up- 
on the  forms  that  are  de- 
lineated in  it,  than  upon 
gradations  of  light  and 
shade  in  representing  sur- 
faces. 

sUKF-  The  subject  which  La- 

fayette had  chosen  was  therefore  not  a  good  one.  He,  however, 
opened  his  blank  drawing  book  at  the  first  page,  and  began.  He 
sketched  a  little,  and  then  rubbed  out  his  lines  ;  and  then  he 
sketched  a  little  more,  and  then  rubbed  out  more,  Lucinda  stand- 
ing by  his  side  all  the  while,  looking  on.  Lafayette  soon  found, 
however,  that  he  was  not  likely  to  succeed  in  making  a  good  copy 
of  the  drawing,  so  he  scribbled  over  his  work,  saying  as  he  did  it, 
"  Poh  !  that  is  not  a  good  subject,  after  all.  I'll  take  another, 
and  begin  again  at  the  other  end  of  the  book." 

So  he  turned  the  book  end  for  end,  in  order  that  he  might  be- 
gin again  on  a  fresh  page. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  am  going  to  have  something  prettier  for  a 
pattern.  Rocks  are  pretty  things  to  go  and  see,  but  they  are  not 
nice  to  draw.    Ah  !  here's  a  horseman  !     I'll  draw  this  horseman." 


96  THE    OMNIBUS. 


Some  account  of  the  omnibus.  Door  behind.  Reason  for  it. 


STUDY  XXIV. 

THE      OMNIBUS. 

In  this  study  we  see  the  form  and  character  of  a  New  York 
omnibus  —  such  a  one  as  Lafayette  Livingston  rode  in  down 
Broadway,  when  he  went  to  buy  his  drawing  materials.  It  will 
be  well  to  describe  the  omnibus  here,  for  this  book  will  be  read 
by  a  great  many  boys  and  girls  in  the  interior  of  the  country  who 
have  never  seen  one  ;  and  even  those  who  live  in  cities,  and  who 
are  accustomed  to  see  omnibuses  every  day,  will  perhaps  take 
some  interest  in  examining  this  picture,  and  reading  the  descrip- 
tion, for  we  often  take  great  pleasure  in  reading  accounts  or  look- 
ing at  pictures  of  objects  most  familiar  to  us  in  reality. 

The  omnibus  is  a  four-wheeled  coach,  with  seats  along  the  sides, 
and  a  door  behind.  The  reason  of  this  arrangement  is,  that,  an 
omnibus  being  intended  to  take  up  and  set  down  passengers  fre- 
quently, there  is  necessarily,  in  the  use  of  it,  a  great  deal  of  get- 
ting in  and  out.  The  omnibus  is  so  contrived,  therefore,  as  to  fa- 
cilitate this  getting  in  and  out,  even  at  a  sacrifice,  in  some  meas- 
ure, of  the  comfort  of  the  people  while  in.  In  a  stage-coach,  on 
the  other  hand,  which  is  intended  to  convey  people  on  long  jour- 
neys, so  that  most  of  the  company  can  get  in  together  at  the  be- 
ginning of  a  journey,  and  get  out  together  at  the  end,  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  vehicle  are  made  to  secure  the  greatest  com- 
fort of  the  people  while  riding,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  conven- 
ience in  getting  in  and  out. 


THE    OMNIBUS. 


97 


Picture  of  the  omnibus. 


The  strap. 


Management  of  it. 


The  doors  in  the 
stage-coach  are  at 
the  sides,  between 
the  wheels,  and  the 
steps  are  necessa- 
rily small ;  but  the 
company  usually 
sit  square,  and  the 
most  of  them  with 
their  faces  to  the 
horses.  In  the  om- 
nibus, on  the  oth- 
er hand,  the  door 
is  behind,  where 
no  wheels  are  in 
the  way,  and  there 
is  room  for  broad  steps,  by  means  of  which  the  passengers  can  as- 
cend and  descend  easily  and  safely. 

Into  this  omnibus  a  gentleman  is  just  about  to  enter.  He  holds 
the  door  open.  The  driver  has  released  the  strap  to  allow  him  to 
do  so ;  for  there  is  a  leather  strap  attached  to  the  upper  edge  of 
the  door,  whence  it  passes  along  the  top  of  the  omnibus,  and  out 
through  an  opening  in  front,  and  thence,  passing  down  by  the  side 
of  the  driver,  the  end  of  it  is  fastened  to  the  edge  of  the  platform 
on  which  the  driver  puts  his  feet.  The  strap  is  made  of  such  a 
length  that  the  driver,  by  twisting  his  foot  and  ankle  about  it  in 
a  peculiar  way,  and  pressing  his  foot  upon  a  part  of  it,  near  the 
extremity,  can  pull  the  omnibus  door^to,  and  hold  it  close,  and 
12  G 


THE    OMNIBUS. 


98  THE    OMNIBUS. 


The  pay-hole.  The  seats.  Windows  in  front. 

then,  by  untwisting  his  foot,  can  release  the  door,  so  that  the  pas- 
senger can  open  it. 

Accordingly,  when  a  passenger  in  the  omnibus  wishes  to  get 
out,  he  pulls  the  strap,  taking  hold  of  it  where  it  passes  along  un- 
der the  roof  of  the  omnibus.  Sometimes  he  takes  hold  of  this 
strap  with  his  hand,  and  sometimes  with  the  hook  of  his  cane  or 
umbrella. 

And  when  the  passenger  that  wishes  to  stop  is  a  child  too  small 
to  reach  the  strap  himself,  he  asks  some  gentleman  who  sits  near 
him  to  pull  it  for  him.  When  the  strap  is  pulled,  the  driver  feels 
the  pressure  of  it  about  his  boot.  He  stops  the  horses,  and,  turn- 
ing round,  puts  his  hand  into  the  pay -hole  to  receive  the  sixpence 
which  is  due  him  for  the  fare.  As  soon  as  he  gets  the  sixpence, 
he  untwists  his  foot  from  the  strap,  and  thus  the  door  is  released, 
so  that  the  passenger  can  open  it  and  get  out. 

The  seats  of  the  omnibus  are  on  each  side  of  the  vehicle,  so 
that  the  passengers,  as  seen  in  the  engraving,  sit  facing  each  oth- 
er. Besides  the  windows  on  the  sides,  there  are  two  windows  in 
front,  at  the  ends  of  the  seats,  so  that  those  who  sit  in  the  front 
corners  can  look  out  under  the  driver's  seat,  and  along  the  street 
where  they  are  going.  Children,  accordingly,  when  they  ride  in 
an  omnibus,  always  like  to  get  these  corner  seats.  When  they 
can  not  get  them,  they  often  turn  round  and  kneel  upon  the  cushion 
so  as  to  look  out  of  the  omnibus  at  the  side.  It  is  an  endless 
source  of  interest  and  pleasure  to  them,  wThile  riding  in  this  way, 
to  look  into  the  shops  and  stores  as  they  pass  along,  and  to  watch 
the  crowds  of  people  moving  on  the  sidewalk,  and  the  carts  and 
carriages  which  pass  them  in  the  street. 


THE    OMNIBUS.  99 


The  way  they  pay.  The  change-box.  Boy  on  behind. 

There  is  a  small  round  hole  in  the  front  of  the  omnibus,  direct- 
ly behind  the  driver's  seat,  called  a  pay-hole.  The  passengers,  as 
has  already  been  said,  put  their  money  up  through  this  hole  to  pay 
their  fare.  The  driver  looks  down  through  this  hole,  too,  into  the 
omnibus,  to  see  the  people  get  in  and  out.  He  is  looking  down 
through  it  now,  in  the  engraving,  to  see  the  gentleman  get  in  who 
stands  at  the  door.  The  pay -hole  is  so  high  that  the  children  can 
not  reach  it  very  well,  and,  accordingly,  they,  in  paying,  usually 
give  the  money  to  some  gentleman  near,  who  hands  it  up  for 
them.  Sometimes,  in  passing  up  the  sixpence,  the  money  drops 
out  of  their  hands,  and  falls  down  upon  the  floor  of  the  omnibus. 
In  the  winter,  the  floor  of  the  omnibus  is  covered  with  straw,  and 
when  a  sixpence  drops  among  the  straw  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
find  it  again.  Then,  if  the  passenger  is  some  poor  woman,  or  lit- 
tle girl  who  has  not  another  sixpence,  she  is  in  great  trouble. 

The  driver  keeps  his  money  in  a  small  tin  box,  called  a  change- 
box,  which  is  placed  very  near  the  pay -hole  on  the  outside. 
There  is  a  lid  to  cover  this  box  to  keep  out  the  snow  and  rain. 
The  boys  in  the  streets  of  New  York  are  very  fond  of  getting  on 
behind  the  omnibuses  to  steal  a  ride.  In  such  cases,  whenever  the 
omnibus  stops,  they  are  afraid  the  driver  will  see  them  when  he 
turns  round  to  look  through  the  pay -hole  to  take  the  pay.  They 
accordingly  jump  off  the  steps  very  suddenly,  and  crouch  down  on 
one  side  of  the  door,  where  they  think  the  driver  can  not  see  them. 
One  of  these  boys  is  hiding  himself  in  this  manner  in  the  engrav- 
ing. 

The  name  of  the  street  through  which  the  omnibus  goes  is 
painted  in  large  letters  along  the  side,  of  the  omnibus  near  the 


100  THE    ARAB    MULETEER. 


Lafayette  chooses  a  picture  of  an  Arab  on  a  mule. 


top.  Many  of  them  are  ornamented,  also,  with  pictures  of  land- 
scapes, and  with  figures  of  men  and  animals,  on  the  panels  of  the 
doors. 


STUDY  XXV. 

THE    ARAB    MULETEER. 

"  It  seems  to  me  it  is  a  pretty  small  horse,"  said  Lucinda,  while 
she  looked  at  the  drawing-  which  her  brother  had  selected,  as  re- 
lated in  the  last  Study  but  one. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  is  a  horse,"  she  added.     "  It  is  a  donkey." 

"  It  is  too  large  for  a  donkey,"  replied  Lafayette.  "  I  think, 
perhaps,  it  is  a  mule." 

Lafayette  was  right  in  this  conjecture.  The  engraving  repre- 
sented an  Arab  mounted  on  a  mule.  A  mule  is  an  animal  inter- 
mediate in  nature  and  in  appearance  between  a  donkey  and  a 
horse. 

The  Arab  was  seated  on  the  mule,  with  his  back  toward  the 
observer.  He  was  dressed  in  the  Oriental  costume.  He  wore  a 
turban  on  his  head,  a  girdle  formed  of  a  sash  around  his  waist, 
and  pointed  shoes  on  his  feet.  He  carried  hjs  gun,  which  was  of 
a  very  rude  and  simple  form,  on  the  saddle  before  him  ;  the  stock, 
with  the  lock,  was  seen  on  one  side,  and  the  muzzle  on  the  other. 
He  held  a  pipe  to  his  mouth  with  his  right  hand.  The  pipe  had 
a  very  long  stem.  The  bowl,  at  one  end,  was  nearly  round,  and 
the  smoke  was  seen  issuing  from  the  man's  mouth  at  the  other 
end  of  it. 


THE  ARAB  MULETEER. 


101 


Picture  of  the  muleteer. 


A  plan  recommended  to  the  reader. 


"  Now,"  said  Lafayette,  "  I  am  going  to  proceed  regularly. 
First,  I  shall  divide  my  page  into  four  squares,  and  then  make 
one  drawing  in  each  square." 


LAFAYETTE'S    LESSON 


This  was  an  excellent  plan,  and  I  advise  all  my  readers,  if  they 
attempt  to  make  drawings  in  a  book  on  the  principles  here  recom- 


102  THE    ARAB    MULETEER. 


Importance  of  a  good  arrangement  of  the  work. 


mended,  that  they  should  take  pakis  to  arrange  their  work  well 
on  the  several  pages  of  their  book,  or  on  the  several  sheets  of 
paper,  if  they  draw  on  separate  sheets.  You  may  divide  the  paper 
into  squares  by  ruling  actual  lines,  or  you  may  only  imagine  such 
lines,  and  make  every  separate  drawing  in  the  middle  of  the  space 
which  would  be  marked  out  for  it  if  the  lines  were  drawn.  In 
this  way,  the  whole  page  or  sheet,  whichever  it  may  be,  will,  when 
it  is  filled,  present  a  systematic  and  symmetrical  appearance, 
which  will  be  much  more  satisfactory  than  if  the  drawings  were 
made  irregularly  upon  the  paper,  without  order  or  design.  The 
precise  character  of  the  arrangement  may  very  properly  vary  in 
different  cases.  Sometimes  you  will,  perhaps,  put  a  large  draw- 
ing on  the  top  of  the  page,  and  two  small  ones  below ;  at  other 
times  you  will  put  a  large  drawing  in  the  middle  of  the  page,  with 
small  ones  all  around  it ;  and  again,  you  may,  perhaps,  cover  the 
page  with  small  drawings,  arranging  them  in  rows,  or  grouping 
them  in  any  other  systematic  manner.  All  that  is  necessary  is 
that  there  should  be  some  system  of  arrangement,  so  that,  when 
you  look  at  the  page  after  it  is  full,  it  may  appear  that,  in  filling 
it,  you  worked  upon  some  determined  plan. 

There  is  another  important  thing  to  be  attended  to,  and  that  is, 
that  you  must  always  have  a  margin  of  white  paper  all  around  the 
page  on  which  you  are  writing  or  drawing.  If  you  look  at  a  page 
in  any  printed  book,  you  will  see  that  the  words  do  not  extend 
out  to  the  edge  of  the  paper,  but  that  there  is  a  space  left  white 
all  around.  This  space  is  called  the  margin,  and  no  word  of  the 
printed  matter,  nor  any  line  of  an  engraving,  is  ever  allowed  to 
encroach  upon  it.     The  preservation  of  this  margin  is  considered 


THE    ARAB    MULETEER.  103 


Margin  always  necessary.  Lafayette  attempts  to  copy  his  lesson. 

quite  essential  to  the  beauty  of  the  page.  In  large  and  costly  en- 
gravings, the  margin  is  considered  still  more  important  even  than 
it  is  in  books,  and  it  is,  accordingly,  sometimes  made  quite  wide, 
and  very  smooth  and  white  paper  is  selected  to  print  the  picture 
upon,  partly  in  order  that  the  margin  may  show  a  very  pure  and 
unsullied  surface. 

Now  there  is  the  same  reason  for  leaving  a  margin  when  you 
make  drawings  with  a  pen  or  pencil,  that  there  is  in  the  case  of 
books  or  of  printed  engravings.  Remember  this,  therefore,  and 
in  no  ordinary  case  allow  your  drawings  to  approach,  in  any  part, 
nearer  than  within  half  an  inch  of  the  margin  of  the  paper. 

As  soon  as  Lafayette  had  divided  his  page  into  squares,  he  be- 
gan to  draw  the  figure  of  the  horseman  in  the  upper  square  on 
the  left  hand.  He  had  scarcely  made  a  beginning,  however,  be- 
fore he  concluded  that  it  would  be  better  to  have  a  house,  or  a 
landscape,  or  some  other  simple  subject,  for  the  first  and  second 
drawings  in  his  book,  and  make  the  horseman  for  the  third.  So 
he  rubbed  out  the  beginning  which  he  had  made  in  the  upper 
square,  and  began  again  in  the  left  hand  lower  square. 

He  began  first  to  draw  the  cap  or  turban  of  the  horseman,  and 
from  that  he  proceeded  to  the  shoulders,  and  then  to  the  arm,  and 
so  on  down  the  back,  drawing  each  part  in  succession  as  he  came 
to  it.  This,  however,  is  not  really  the  proper  way  of  proceeding. 
The  first  thing  to  be  done,  in  making  such  a  drawing  as  this,  is, 
indeed,  to  draw  slightly  the  upper  line  of  the  head,  in  order  to  de- 
termine the  place  where  the  head  is  to  come  ;  but  the  next  thing 
properly  is  to  go  to  the  other  extremity  of  the  figure,  and  make 
touches  upon  the  paper  to  denote  the  places  for  the  horse's  feet,  so 


104  THE    ARAB    MULETEER. 


lie  falls  into  a  very  unexpected  difficulty. 


as  to  get  the  whole  length  of  the  figure  properly  represented  on 
the  paper.  Then  the  points  representing  the  extremities  of  the 
toes  should  be  marked,  and  the  line  of  the  sash  around  the  man's 
waist,  and  of  the  back  of  the  saddle.  These  points  and  lines  be- 
ing all  fixed  first  carefully,  and  marked  on  the  drawing  paper  at 
the  right  relative  distance  from  each  other,  the  intermediate  parts 
can  all  be  put  in  quite  easily ;  and  the  whole  drawing  will  be  much 
more  correct  if  executed  in  this  way,  than  if  the  pupil  begins  at 
one  part  of  the  figure,  and  proceeds,  without  any  thing  to  guide 
him  as  to  its  general  form,  by  a  regular  progress,  to  the  other  end. 

In  making  any  drawing,  then,  if  you  wish  to  get  the  true  form 
of  your  figure  in  the  most  sure  and  easy  manner,  touch  first  all  the 
most  important  lines  and  points,  especially  those  of  the  extremities, 
and  then  you  can  easily  see  how  the  intermediate  and  connecting 
parts  are  to  be  delineated. 

Lafayette  neglected  this,  and  the  consequence  was,  that,  by  the 
time  he  had  got  to  the  middle  of  the  horse's  tail,  which,  as  you 
will  see  by  the  engraving,  was  rather  a  long  one,  he  had  got  off 
the  paper. 

"  Dear  me  !"  said  he,  "  now  my  paper  is  not  long  enough  !" 

Lucinda  looked  at  the  half-finished  horseman  with  a  countenance 
expressive  of  great  concern. 

"  It's  too  hard,"  said  she.  "  It  is  a  great  deal  too  hard  a  lesson. 
You  must  try  something  easier.  I  found  a  picture  over  here,  a  few 
pages,  of  a  bird  standing  up  on  his  hind  legs." 

"  His  hind  legs  !"  repeated  Lafayette,  in  a  tone  of  contempt. 
"  A  bird  has  not  got  any  hind  legs." 

"Yes,"  said  Lucinda.     "Turn  over,  and  I  will  show  vou." 


THE    PENGUIN. 


10i 


The  penguin. 


Lucinda's  idea  of  it. 


Lafayette  fails  again. 


STUDY  XXVI. 


THE    PENGUIN. 

The  picture  that  Lucinda  found  for  Lafayette  was  this. 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  is  not 
that  a  bird  standing  up  on  his 
hind  legs  ?" 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  penguin,"  said 
Lafayette,  "or  some  such  bird. 
They  generally  stand  up  in  that 
manner.  That  is  a  very  good 
thing  for  me  to  draw." 

So  Lafayette  began  to  draw 
the  bird.  He,  however,  had 
begun  by  this  time  to  be  a  lit- 
tle tired,  and  somewhat  discour- 
aged, moreover,  and  was  con- 
sequently not  prepared  to  exer- 
cise the  necessary  care  in  pro- 
ceeding with  his  work.  Ac- 
cordingly, after  making  a  few 
strokes  in  a  rapid  and  careless 
manner,  and  finding  that  he  was  not  going  to  succeed,  he  scribbled 
over  what  he  had  begun,  and  gave  up. 

"  Oh  Lafayette  !"  exclaimed  Lucinda,  "  now  you  have  spoiled 
it."  -  . 


lucinda's  bird. 


106  THE    PENGUIN. 


Description  of  the  picture.  E  nd  of  Lafayette's  experiment. 

"  No,"  said  Lafayette,  "  it  was  good  for  nothing  before.  I  am 
not  going  to  draw  any  more  now.  I  don't  feel  like  it.  I  never 
can  draw  when  I  don't  feel  like  it." 

The  bird  which  Lucinda  chose  for  Lafayette's  drawing  lesson 
stands,  as  is  seen  in  the  engraving,  on  the  sand,  in  a  marshy  place, 
with  flags  in  the  background  growing  out  of  the  water.  It  has 
web  feet,  and  a  broad  bill  fitted  for  dabbling  in  the  mud.  It  has 
a  ring  of  feathers  about  its  neck,  and  two  tufts,  like  ears,  upon  its 
head.  Its  neck  is  slightly  curved,  and  its  body  appears  very  long 
on  account  of  its  legs  being  entirely  enveloped  by  the  feathers  of 
its  tail.  It  stands  in  a  very  erect  posture,  with  its  breast  toward 
the  spectator.  In  the  distance  is  another  bird  of  the  same  species, 
with  its  back  toward  the  spectator.  By  introducing  this  other  fig- 
ure, the  artist  has  admirably  contrived  to  show  the  appearance  of 
both  sides  of  the  bird. 

This  subject  formed  thus  a  very  simple  and  suitable  lesson  for 
Lafayette  to  practice  upon,  if  he  had  been  disposed  to  undertake 
it,  and  to  work  upon  it  half  an  hour  in  a  patient  and  careful  man- 
ner. But  he  was  not  so  disposed.  He  did  not  "  feel  like  it,"  he 
said.  So  he  shut  up  his  books  and  went  away,  leaving  his  books 
upon  the  desk.  The  next  morning,  the  servant-girl,  who  came  to 
put  the  room  in  order,  placed  the  books  on  a  shelf  in  the  closet, 
where  they  remained  a  fortnight  without  being  disturbed.  At  the 
end  of  that  time,  some  new  arrangements  were  made  in  the  clos- 
et, and  the  books  were  put  away  upon  a  high  shelf,  in  a  corner, 
and  there  they  remain  to  this  day. 

In  a  subsequent  study  I  shall  have  occasion  to  give  an  account 
of  the  efforts  which  a  boy  named  Daniel  Hunter,  who  lived  in  a 


THE  COTTAGE  DOOR.  107 

Description  of  the  group  at  the  cottage  door. 

log  cabin  in  the  woods,  made,  to  learn  to  draw,  and  you  will  find 
that  his  experience  was  very  different  from  that  of  the  Lafayette 
•Place  young  gentleman. 


STUDY  XXVII. 

THE     COTTAGE     DOOR. 


On  the  following  page  we  have  an  engraving  of  a  group  before 
a  cottage  door.  Observe  how  prettily  the  artist  has  arranged  the 
figures. 

Seated  on  the  ground,  by  the  side  of  the  door,  is  a  man  weav- 
ing a  seat  of  flags  for  a  chair  which  he  holds  before  him.  The 
bundle  of  flags  from  which  he  works  lies  in  his  lap.  A  young 
girl,  who  seems,  by  her  dress  and  her  air,  to  be  a  nursery-maid, 
stands  before  him,  looking  on  to  see  him  at  work.  She  has  two 
children  under  her  charge.  One  is  an  infant,  who  has  gone  to 
sleep  while  she  has  been  carrying  him,  and  he  now  lies  in  an  atti- 
tude of  repose,  with  his  head  upon  her  neck,  and  his  arm  around 
her  shoulder.  At  her  side  stands  a  little  girl,  holding  by  her 
apron,  and  shrinking  back,  as. if  she  were  afraid  to  go  too  near  to 
the  chair-mende'r.  Observe  how  well  her  timidity  is  expressed 
by  the  attitude  in  which  she  stands.  She  has  a  cap  upon  her  head, 
which,  though  very  fully  represented,  is  drawn  by  the  artist  by 
means  of  very  few  lines. 

The  boy  who  stands  near  is  much  older  than  the  girl,  and  is, 
accordingly,  less  afraid.  And  yet  there  is  a  certain  air  of  reserve 
expressed  in  his  attitude  and  position,  as  if  he  was  not  acquaint- 


108 


THE     COTTAGE    DOOR. 


Picture  of  the  man  mending  chair-bottoms. 


ed  with  the  man  who  is  weaving  the  chair  bottom,  and  did  not 
like  to  go  too  near  him.  He  stands  in  an  attitude  which  indi- 
cates that  he  is  paying  close  attention  to  the  work,  and  there  is 
something  even  in  the  manner  in  which  he  holds  his  head  that 

expresses  curiosity  and  won- 
der. He  holds  his  cap  in  his 
hands  behind,  him. 

Behind  the  little  girl  are 
two  ducks  walking  away. 
The  artist  has  made  one  of 
them  of  a  dark  color,  and  the 
other  white,  for  the  sake  of 
giving  spirit  to  the  group. 
The  ducks  are   going  down 


HE    IS    MENDING    A    CHAIR. 


among  the  flags  and  rushes,  to  the  bank  of  a  little  brook.     Be- 
yond  them  is  seen  the  masonry  of  a  small  arch,  through  which  the 


THE    COTTAGE    DOOR.  109 


Various  observations.  The  shadows.-  Effects  of  them. 

water  of  the  brook  runs.  The  water  is  seen  plainly  in  the  front 
of  the  picture  on  the  right,  with  loose  stones  lying  on  the  ground 
upon  the  margin  of  it. 

Observe  how  these  stones  are  made  to  appear  to  project  above 
the  ground,  by  means  of  the  shadow's  to  the  left  of  them.  Two 
of  the  stones  lie  so  near  the  margin  of  the  brook  that  the  forms 
of  them  are  reflected  very  beautifully  in  the  water. 

The  cottage  is  of  a  picturesque  and  rustic  form.  The  thatched 
roof  is  covered  with  moss,  and  a  vine,  growing  up  from  the  ground 
by  a  large  stem  seen  near  the  corner  of  the  cottage,  runs  along 
the  eaves,  and  half  envelops  the  latticed  window.  The  casement 
of  the  window  is  made  to  turn  upon  hinges  instead  of  sliding  up 
and  down,  and  it  is  open.  Beneath  the  window,  a  broom  stands 
leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  cottage,  with  its  shadow  projected 
partly  upon  the  wall,  and  partly  upon  the  side  of  a  grindstone 
which  stands  behind  it.  This  shadow,  as  the  artist  has  drawn  it, 
has  a  very  beautiful  effect.  Indeed,  it  is  not  very  improbable  that 
he  placed  the  broom  and  the  grindstone  there  mainly  for  the  sake 
of  this  shadow.  How  plainly  it  shows,  by  its  distinctness,  that 
the  sun  is  shining  ! 

The  shadow  of  the  man,  too,  is  cast  very  distinctly  upon  the 
wall  of  the  cottage  behind  him.  We  see  his  shoulders  and  his 
hat,  and  even  the  pipe  that  he  is  smoking. 

Near,  in  the  foreground  on  the  left,  is  a  pail,  with  its  hoops  very 
distinctly  and  beautifully  represented. 

The  cottage  has  a  very  retired  and  rural  air.  It  is  gradually 
going  to  decay.  There  is  a  break  in  the  wall  under  the  sill  of  the 
window,  and  the  chimney  is  dilapidated  and  in  ruins. 


110  DANIEL    HUNTER. 


Some  account  of  Daniel  Hunter.  The  room  in  the  log  cabin. 

Beyond  the  cottage  we  see  the  tops  of  tall  trees,  and  birds  be- 
yond the  trees,  in  the  air,  so  remote  that  we  can  scarcely  discern 
iheir  forms. 


STUDY  XXVIII. 

DANIEL     HUNTER. 

There  was  once  a  boy  named  Daniel  Hunter.  He  had  two 
aunts,  who  lived  together  in  a  log  house  among  the  mountains.  At 
leagth  one  of  his  aunts  died,  and  the  other  was  left  alone. 

One  evening,  as  this  surviving  aunt  sat  in  her  chair  before  the 
fire  in  her  log  house,  thinking  how  lonesome  it  was  for  her  in  her 
cottage  now  that  her  sister  was  gone,  she  concluded  that  she 
would  send  to  her  brother,  Mr.  Hunter,  who  lived  about  two  miles 
away,  and  ask  him  to  let  Daniel  come  and  live  with  her. 

Opposite  is  an  engraving  representing  the  lonely  woman  sit- 
ting before  her  fire.  Her  cat,  the  only  living  thing  now  remain- 
ing with  her  in  the  house,  sits  beside  her.  We  see  the  shadow  of 
the  cat  and  of  the  andiron  projected  upon  the  floor  of  the  room. 
We  see  only  one  of  the  andirons.  The  other  is  concealed  behind 
the  woman.  The  andiron  is  of  the  kind  called  a  dog.  It  looks 
like  a  man  standing,  with  his  hands  upon  his  hips,  and  his  feet 
astride. 

The  room  itself,  and  the  furniture  which  it  contains,  are  very 
plain  and  simple.  We  see  the  forms  of  the  logs  of  which  the 
house  is  built  along  the  walls.  The  lines  of  these  logs  on  the 
sides  of  the  room,  and  on  the  ceiling  above,  are  all  drawn  converg- 


DANIEL    HUNTEll. 


Ill 


Picture  of  Daniel  Hunter's  aunt  in  her  solitude. 


ing  to  a  certain  point,  which  the  artist  made  as  a  guide  to  enable 
him  to  draw  the  lines  correctly.  This  point  was  made  near  the- 
centre  of  the  picture,  and  was  afterward  erased  when  the  logs 
were  drawn.  _Such  a  point  is  called  the  point  of  sight.* 


ALL    ALONE. 


An  artist,  when  drawing  any  subject  like  this  which  contains  re- 
ceding lines,  always  fixes  upon  a  place  for  the  point  of  sight,  and 
makes  a  very  fine  cross  there  with  his  pencil  to  mark  it,  and  then 
draws  all  the  receding  lines  toward  it.  The  little  cross  serves  him 
for  a  guide.  He  draws  all  the  receding  lines  directly  toward  it. 
If  there  are  many  of  these  lines,  or  if  they  are  straight  and  long, 

*  The  reason  why  such  lines  appear  to  converge  in  this  manner  as  they  recede,  is 
explained,  you  will  recollect,  in  Study  XXII.        __,- 


112  DANIEL    HUNTER. 


Management  of  the  point  of  sight.  Position  of  it. 

he  lays  down  a  -rule,  and  with  the  point  of  his  pencil  he  touches 
the  direction  of  the  line  along  upon  the  paper,  and  afterward  draws 
the  line  itself  properly  with  his  hand.  He  does  not,  in  ordinary 
cases,  actually  rule  the  line  itself,  as  a  ruled  line  has  what  is  called 
a  stiff  and  hard  character,  and  is  unsuitable  for  a  drawing.  He  ac- 
cordingly touches  his  pencil  slightly  here  and  there  along  the  edge 
of  the  rule,  to  determine  the  position  and  direction  of  the  line,  and 
afterward  draws  it  properly  by  hand. 

After  the  artist  has  drawn  all  the  receding  lines,  he  has  no  lon- 
ger any  need  of  the  point  of  sight,  and  so  he  rubs  out  the  little 
cross  which  he  had  made  to  denote  its  position,  since,  if  he  were 
to  leave  it  there,  it  would  mar  the  beauty  of  the  picture. 

We  can  always  ascertain  precisely  where  the  point  of  sight  was 
marked  by  the  artist  in  such  a  drawing  as  this,  by  observing  to 
what  point  in  the  background  the  lines  on  the  different  sides  of  the 
drawings  converge.  The  point  of  sight  in  this  drawing  is  within 
the  fireplace,  at  a  very  short  distance  to  the  right  of  the  woman's 
chin.  The  point  was  erased  by  the  artist  after  he  had  finished  the 
drawing,  for  the  little  cross,  if  it  had  been  left  there  in  the  midst 
of  the  white  surface  formed  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  as  I  have  al- 
ready said,  would  have  been  a  blemish  in  the  picture. 

The  position  of  the  point  of  sight  is  a  matter  of  discretion  with 
the  artist.  He  can  place  it  more  or  less  to  the  right  or  to  the  left, 
and  also  higher  or  lower,  as  he  pleases.  Wherever  it  is  placed, 
the  receding  lines  must  all  converge  toward  it.  The  result  will 
be  that  the  room  will  appear  somewhat  different,  according  as  the 
point  of  sight  is  placed  in  different  positions — as  if  the  room  were 
looked  nt  from  different  points  of  view.      The  artist  always  places 


DANIEL    HUNTER.  113 


Receding  lines.  The  lines  of  the  floor.  Importance  of  the  principle. 

his  point  of  sight  where  he  supposes  it  will  bring  the  room  into 
view  in  a  manner  most  suitable  to  his  purpose.  But  he  must  de- 
termine upon  a  place  for  it  somewhere,  else  he  would  have  no 
guide  for  the  drawing  of  the  receding  lines. 

It  is  only  lilies  that  recede  from  the  spectator  in  a  view  that  must 
be  drawn  converging  to  the  point  of  sight.  Those  that  pass  across 
the  field  of  vieiv,  and  all  those  which  stand  upright,  do  not  con- 
verge at  all.  Thus  the  lines  of  the  logs  or  planks  that  appear  in 
the  farther  side  of  the  room,  wiiere  the  fireplace  is  situated,  pass 
directly  across  the  field  of  view.  They  do  not  recede  at  all.  The 
left-hand  end  of  any  one  of  those  lines  is  just  as  far  from  us  as  the 
right-hand  end.  Thus  those  lines  are  not  to  be  drawn  converging 
to  the  point  of  sight.  They  are  to  be  drawn  straight  across  in 
their  natural  position. 

In  the  same  manner,  if  the  floor  of  the  room,  instead  of  present- 
ing, as  it  does,  one  smooth,  continuous  surface,  had  been  formed 
of  boards,  and  if  the  boards  had  been  laid  crosswise,  that  is,  from 
left  to  right,  in  such  a  manner  as  that  the  lines  between  them 
should  have  passed  across  the  field  of  view  instead  of  receding 
from  the  eye,  then  they  would  have  been  drawn  parallel  to  each 
other,  across  the  paper,  in  their  natural  position.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  boards  had  been  laid  lengthwise  of  the  floor,  so  that  the 
lines  between  them  should  extend  from  the  foreground  back  toward 
the  fireplace,  these  lines,  being  receding  lines,  would  necessarily 
appear  in  the  drawing  to  converge  toward  the  point  of  sight.    ' 

This  principle,  when  you  once  understand  it,  will  guide  you  in 
drawing  furniture  as  well  as  rooms  ;  for  in  furniture,  as  well  as 
in  the  walls  and  ceiling  of  a  room,  all  lines  that  recede  from  the 
12  H 


114  DANIEL    HUNTER. 


Further  illustrations.  Description  of  the  furniture  of  the  room. 

spectator  must  tend  to  the  point  of  sight,  while  those  that  are  per- 
pendicular, or  which  pass  square  across  from  left  to  right,  must 
be  drawn  in  their  natural  position. 

Look,  for  example,  at  the  table  which  stands  in  the  corner  of 
the  room  nearest  the  spectator,  on  the  left.  The  end  of  the  table, 
which  is  turned  toward  us,  stands  square  to  the  view,  and  is  drawn 
just  as  it  is.  The  legs  of  the  table,  too,  which  are  perpendicular 
in  fact,  are  made  perpendicular  in  the  drawing,  and  parallel  to 
each  other.  But  all  the  lines  which  run  along  the  table  from  one 
end  to  the  other,  being  receding  lines,  must  tend  toward  the  point 
of  sight,  and  thus  must  converge  toward  each  other. 

But  to  return  to  the  story. 

The  furniture  of  the  room  is  exceedingly  simple  and  plain. 
There  are  but  two  chairs.  The  woman  sits  in  one.  The  other  is 
placed  back  against  the  wall,  under  the  window  at  the  end  of  the 
table.  On  the  other  side  of  the  room,  in  the  corner  near  the  fire, 
is  a  sort  of  chest,  with  some  other  simple  articles  near  it.  A  roll- 
er-towel hangs  against  the  wall,  by  the  side  of  the  fire.  Near  the 
foreground,  on  the  right,  is  a  bedstead,  turned  up  against  the  wall, 
and  covered  with  a  curtain.  There  is  a  drawer  below  to  contain 
the  bedclothes  when  the  bed  is  turned  up  by  day.  At  night  these 
bedclothes  are  taken  out,  the  bedstead  is  let  down  to  the  floor,  and 
the  bed  is  made  up.  The  bedstead  is  constructed  in  this  way  be- 
cause there  is  no  other  room  for  a  bed  in  the  house,  and  by  being 
turned  up  into  its  place  against  the  wall  in  the  day  time,  it  is  out 
of  the  way. 

Daniel  Hunter  went  to  live  with  his  aunt.  The  day  he  went 
away  from  home  his  father  said  to  him. 


DANIEL    HUNTER.  115 


Daniel's  mode  of  life  at  his  aunt's.  ■*  His  amusements. 

"  Now,  Daniel,  my  boy,  you  are  ten  years  old ;  you  are  old 
enough  to  earn  your  living  well.  I  hope  you  will  do  your  best  to 
do  it.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  have  a  boy  of  mine  live  in  any 
house  besides  his  father's  where  he  did  not  earn  his  living." 

Mr.  Huntet  was  a  farmer,  and  David  had  been  accustomed  to 
work,  and  he  was  a  very  capable  boy.  As  soon  as  he  got  settled 
at  his  aunt's,  he  began  to  work  very  regularly,  day  after  day,  in 
order  that  he  might,  as  his  father  said,  earn  his  living. 

There  was  a  little  garden  near  the  house,  where  his  aunt  was 
accustomed  to  raise  such  vegetables  as  she  required,  and  there 
was  a  pasture  behind  it  where  she  kept  her  cow.  Daniel,  as  soon 
as  he  came  to  the  house,  undertook  the  whole  care  and  cultivation 
of  this  garden,  all  except  the  first  plowing  of  it  in  the  spring. 

But  it  was  not  about  Daniel's  work  that  I  was  going  to  write 
here,  but  about  his  drawing.  He,  of  course,  had  very  few  amuse- 
ments and  very  few  companions.  He  had  scarcely  any  books, 
and  no  playthings  ;  and  though  he  used  sometimes  to  go  home  to 
his  father's  to  make  a  visit  in  the  winter  evenings,  still  he  usual- 
ly remained  with  his  aunt,  because  he  did  not  like  to  leave  her 
alone.  Now  some  boys  might  suppose  that  with  few  books,  and 
no  playthings,  and  no  companion  but  his  aunt,  Daniel's  time,  in 
the  winter  evenings,  would  often  hang  heavy  on  his  hands  ;  but  it 
was  not  so.  He  had  many  ways  of  occupying  and  amusing  him- 
self. One  of  his  plans  was  learning  to  draw.  It  is  only  for  the 
purpose  of  explaining  how  he  managed  in  this  attempt  that  I  have 
brought  Daniel  Hunter  to  view  at  'all  in  this  book,  and  I  shall  ac- 
cordingly tell  what  he  did  in  the  next  Study. 

Before  I  begin,  however,  upon  that  subject,  I  wish  to  tell  you 


116  DANIEL    HUNTER. 


The  garret  where  Daniel  slept.  A  dark  place. 

where  Daniel  slept.  Look  back  at  the  engraving  of  his  aunt's 
cottage.  You  will  see  in  the  ceiling  overhead,  near  the  middle  of 
the  right-hand  side  of  the  room,  a  square  hole  leading  to  a  dark 
place  above.  The  place  that  this  hole  leads  to  is  a  sort  of  garret. 
Daniel's  bed  was  in  this  garret.  He  used  to  go  up  to  it  by  means 
of  a  ladder. 

The  hole  leading  to  the  garret  is  situated,  as  you  will  observe, 
near  the  door.  Daniel  used  to  keep  his  ladder  just  outside  the 
door,  in  a  little  shed  which  was  built  there,  and  which  covered 
the  entrance  way  to  the  door.  When  bedtime  came  Daniel  used 
to  go  out  and  bring  his  ladder  in.  He  would  then  set  it  under 
the  hole,  or  trap-door,  as  he  called  it,  resting  one  end  of  the  lad- 
der on  the  floor  toward  the  fireplace,  and  planting  the  other  end 
firmly  against  the  margin  of  the  opening.  Then  he  would  bid  his 
aunt  good-night,  and  begin  to  ascend  the  ladder.  When  he  reach- 
ed the  top,  he  would  push  open  the  scuttle-door  which  closed  the 
opening,  and  then  climb  up.  It  was  somewhat  inconvenient  to 
Daniel  to  have  such  a  door  there  to  lift  up  every  time  he  went  up 
to  his  bed,  but  he  submitted  to  this  inconvenience  very  cheerfully, 
since  he  knew  that  it  was  necessary  to  have  the  opening  closed, 
in  order  to  prevent  the  cold  wind  from  coming  down  into  the  room 
below.  Daniel  would  have  liked  very  well  to  have  had  the  trap- 
door open  at  night  while  he  was  up  there  ;  but  he  knew  that  it 
was  particularly  necessary  to  have  it  closed  at  night,  for  the  open- 
ing being  nearly  over  the  place  where  the  bed  stood  in  the  room 
below,  the  wind,  if  the  trap-door  had  been  open,  would  have  blown 
directly  upon  his  aunt  while  she  was  asleep. 

Accordingly,  as  soon  as  Daniel  got  up  through  the  hole,  he 


DANIEL    HUNTER.  117 


The  window.  Moonlight.  Stormy  nights.  Going  to  sleep. 

used  to  shut  down  the  door  and  go  toward  the  corner  where  his 
bed  was.  He  knew  which  way  to  go  by  the  window.  There 
was  a  small  window  in  the  end  of  the  garret,  near  the  head  of  his 
bed,  and  the  light  of  this  window  guided  him.  Sometimes,  espe- 
cially when  it  was  cloudy  or  stormy,  very  little  light  came  in,  and 
then  Daniel  was  obliged  to  undress  himself  almost  entirely  in  the 
dark.  This  did  not  happen,  however,  very  often.  Generally, 
there  was  as  much  light  as  Daniel  desired ;  and  sometimes,  when 
the  moon  was  full,  and  the  sky  was  clear,  Daniel's  little  apart- 
ment was  lighted  up  by  her  beams  in  quite  a  brilliant  manner. 

At  such  times  Daniel  would  amuse  himself  for  a  little  while 
after  he  went  to  bed  in  looking  at  the  image  of  the  window  form- 
ed by  the  moonbeams  on  the  under  side  of  the  roof  opposite  to 
him,  observing  how  curiously  this  window  was  elongated  by  the 
slope  of  the  roof,  and  watching  the  changes  which  took  place  in 
its  position  and  form.  Musing  upon  this  spectrum  was  an  end- 
less source  of  pleasure  to  him  on  pleasant  nights,  when  the  rising 
moon  was  full.  In  storms,  on  the  other  hand,  he  experienced  a  feel- 
ing of  enjoyment  almost  as  great — though  it  came  to  him  through 
a  different  sense — in  listening  to  the  roaring;  of  the  wind  amonar  the 
trees,  and  to  the  pattering  of  the  drops  of  rain  upon  the  roof  di- 
rectly over  his  head,  or  the  clicking  of  the  snow  or  hail  against 
his  window.  There  was  one  respect,  in  fact,  in  which  the  pleas- 
ure of  hearing  these  sounds  was  superior  to  that  of  seeing  the  re- 
flected image  of  light,  for  it  remained  with  him  longer  as  he  grad- 
ually sank  to  sleep.  The  bright  image  was,  of  course,  shut  out 
from  his  sensorium  from  the  moment  that  he  became  sleepy 
enough  to  close  his  eyes  ;  but  the  sound  of  the  wind  and  the  rain. 


118  THE    HERON. 


Daniel  wishes  that  he  had  a  pencil.  He  resolves  to  make  one. 


on  the  nights  when  he  heard  them,  continued  to  lull  his  senses 
long  after  his  eyes  were  closed,  and  were  the  last  traces  of  con- 
sciousness to  leave  him.  They  seemed  to  him  like  friends  com- 
ing into  his  mind  to  soothe  him  to  sleep,  and,  after  sending  all 
other  thoughts  away  that  could  tend  to  disturb  him,  retiring  gentlv 
themselves  at  last,  at  the  instant  when  he  was  sinking  to  slumber. 


STUDY  XXIX. 

THE    HERON. 

';  If  I  only  had  a  pencil."  said  Daniel  Hunter,  one  evening,  to 
his  aunt,  as  he  was  sitting  with  her  by  the  side  of  the  fire,  "I  could 
learn  to  draw." 

Daniel's  aunt  was  knitting  at  this  time,  as  she  sat  in  her  chair 
by  the  chimney  corner,  and  she  happened  just  at  that  moment  to 
be  lost  in  a  dreamy  revery,  thinking  of  old  times,  so  that  she  did 
not  hear,  or  rather  did  not  observe  what  Daniel  said. 

"  There  are  some  very  good  pictures  in  the  Almanac,"  said 
Daniel,  "  which  I  could  copy."  He  said  this  in  a  musing  sort  of 
tone,  as  if  he  were  talking  to  himself  rather  than  to  his  aunt. 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  pencil,"  said  he.  "  Do  vou  think  you  have  a 
pencil  in  the  house,  aunt  ?"  he  added. 

"  No,"  said  his  aunt ;  "but  there  is  a  small  piece  of  lead  out  on 
a  shelf  in  the  porch,  and  perhaps  vou  can  make  one." 

"  So  I  will,"  said  Daniel. 

He  resolved  that  he  would  make  a  pencil  the  next  day  ;  and, 
in  the  mean  time,  he  would  take  out  the  Almanac  from  the  chest 


THE    HERON. 


119 


He  chooses  a  picture  for  a  drawing  lesson. 


between  the  door   and  the  fire,  where  it  was  usually  kept,  and 
choose  something  to  draw. 

He  determined  to  choose  something-  simple  for  his  first  lesson ; 
and  so,  after  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the  Almanac,  and  looking 
at  all  the  pictures  which  were  in  it,  he  decided  at  length  upon  this 
picture  of  a  heron. 

He  carried  the  Almanac 
to  his  aunt  to  show  her  the 
picture. 

But  his  aunt  said  she 
could  not  see  it  without  her 
spectacles,  and  her  specta- 
cles were  not  then  at  hand. 
"  But  you  can  tell  me 
about  it,"  said  she.  "  Look 
at  the  picture,  and  tell  me." 
"I  see  a  curious  tuft  on 
his  head,"  said  Daniel. 

"A tuft  offeathers,isit?" 
asked  his  aunt. 

"Yes,"  said  Daniel;   "of 

very  fine,  slender  feathers." 

*  "  Do  you  think  you  can 


«m|, 


THE  HERON. 


draw  such  feathers  as  those  ?"  asked  his  aunt. 

"  Yes,"  said  Daniel.  "  They  begin  at  the  end  of  his  bill,  and  go 
over  his  head  in  a  round,  and  then  the  ends  stand  off  from  the  back 
of  his  neck.  The  ends  of  them,"  he  continued,  "  are  exactly  over 
his  feet,  in  a  line  with  his  legs."  ^ 


120  THE    HERON. 


Daniel  studies  his  model.  His  guide-line.  Conversation. 

"  Are  they  ?"  said  his  aunt. 

"  Yes,"  said  Daniel.  "  He  has  not  any  feet — nothing  but  toes. 
Where  his  legs  end,  his  toes  begin.  He  has  four  toes,  three  in 
front  and  one  behind.  His  legs  go  up  almost  exactly  straight  to 
his  knees,  and  then  his  thighs  lean  forward  a  little.  If  I  draw  a 
line  straight  up  from  his  legs  through  his  body,  it  would  just 
touch  the  end  of  his  tuft  of  feathers.  I  mean  to  draw  such  a 
line  on  my  paper,  and  that  will  show  me  how  to  draw  his  legs, 
and  where  the  end  of  his  tuft  would  come.  It  will  be  my  guide- 
line." 

Daniel  went  on  in  this  manner,  examining  his  picture  carefully 
in  every  part,  and  noting  the  relation  which  one  part  bore  to  an- 
other. He  observed  that  the  body  of  the  bird  was  shaped  almost 
exactly  like  an  egg,  or,  to  speak  more  scientifically,  was  of  an 
oval  form,  only  that  the  feathers  of  the  ends  of  the  wings  and  of 
the  tail  projected  downward  at  the  end,  in  two  rounded  points. 
The  broadest  part  of  this  oval  was  above,  where  the  upper  part  of 
the  wing  came.  Daniel  studied  the  size  and  position  of  this  oval 
very  carefully. 

"About  half  of  it,"  said  he  to  himself,  "will  be  to  the  left  of  my 
guide-line,  and  half  to  the  right." 

So  he  determined  that,  as  soon  as  he  should  have  drawn  his 
guide-line,  he  would  sketch  faintly  the  form  of  an  oval  upon  it,  or 
rather  across  it,  in  an  oblique  position,  corresponding  to  the  posi- 
tion of  the  body  of  the  bird.  This  would  give  him  the  general 
form  of  the  body  of  the  bird,  and  he  could  afterward  add  the  two 
rounded  points  for  the  ends  of  the  wings. 

"  His  neck  is  curled  into  a  ring,  aunt,"  said  Daniel ;   "  almost  a 


THE    HERON.  121 


Daniel  proceeds  in  a  very  scientific  manner. 


round  ring,  only  it  does  not  go  entirely  round.  There  is  an  open 
place  under  his  bill ;  but  from  the  end  of  his  bill,  round  over  the 
top  of  his  head,  under  the  tuft  of  feathers,  and  so  down  the  back 
of  his  neck,  it  makes  three  quarters  of  a  circle.  I'll  draw  a  faint 
circle  of  the  right  size  just  where  it  ought  to  come  in  my  drawing, 
and  then  I  can  draw  his  head  and  neck  by  that." 

In  this  manner  Daniel  went  on  examining  his  model  for  more 
than  half  an  hour,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  he  understood  the 
form  of  the  bird  very  fully,  and  could  almost  have  drawn  it  from 
memory.  His  plan  of  imagining  an  oval  to  be  drawn  for  the 
body,  and  a  circle  for  the  head  and  neck,  and  of  a  guide-line  to 
show  the  position  of  the  legs  and  of  the  end  of  the  tuft  of  feathers, 
was  a  very  excellent  one.  Professed'draughtsmer ,  when  they  are 
drawing  irregular  forms  of  this  kind,  always  derive  great  assist- 
ance from  referring  the  different  parts  to  guide-lines  and  to  geo- 
metrical figures  which  they  imagine  to  be  drawn  within  or  around 
them.  Daniel  himself  was  aided  very  much  indeed,  in  drawing 
his  heron  correctly,  by  means  of  these  devices,  as  will  appear  in 
the  sequel. 

The  next  morning,  Daniel  found  the  lead  which  his  aunt  had 
spoken  of,  on  the  shelf  in  the  porch.  As  soon  as  he  had  got  it,  he 
went  out  into  the  shop,  and  with  his  knife  he  cut  a  groove  in  a 
block  of  wood  for  a  mould  to  cast  the  lead  in,  to  make  his  pencil. 
This  groove  was  about  three  inches  long,  and  the  two  sides  of  it 
sloped  toward  each  other,  so  as  to  meet  together  at  the  bottom. 
Thus  the  bar  of  lead,  when  cast,  would  be  of  a  triangular  form. 
The  upper  surface  would  form  one  side,  and  the  two  sides  of  the 
groove  in  the  wood  would  form  the  other  two  sides. 


122  THE    HERON. 


Daniel  casts  a  pencil.  The  process.  Substitute  for  paper. 


"  How  are  you  getting  along  ?"  said  his  aunt  to  him,  when  he 
brought  the  mould  into  the  house. 

"  Well !"  said  Daniel ;  "  very  well  !  I  have  got  the  mould 
done." 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  his  aunt. 

So  Daniel  gave  his  aunt  the  block  of  wood,  and  showed  her  the 
groove  in  it. 

"Yes,"  said  she  ;  "but  you  have  made  the  ends  of  the  groove 
square.  I  advise  you  to  bring  one  of  the  ends  to  a  point,  and  then 
your  pencil  will  be  already  sharpened." 

"Yes,"  said  Daniel,  "that  will  be  an  excellent  plan." 

So  he  cut  away  the  wood  at  one  end  of  his  groove  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  form  it  to  a  point.  Then  he  melted  his  lead  on  the 
fire-shovel,  and  putting  the  block  of  wood  down  upon  the  hearth, 
he  poured  the  melted  metal  carefully  into  the  groove  until  it  was 
full. 

He  let  the  casting  remain  where  it  was  until  it  was  cold,  and 
then  he  pried  it  out  with  the  blade  of  his  jack-knife.  After  ex- 
amining it  carefully  on  every  side,  and  finding  that  it  was  per- 
fect, he  placed  it  between  his  fingers  in  the  manner  in  which  a 
pencil  should  be  held  in  making  a  drawing,  and  began  to  make 
traces  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the  block  of  wood. 

"Yes,  aunt,"  said  he,  "it  will  draw  very  well." 

"And  now,  what  will  you  have  to  draw  upon  ?"  asked  his  aunt. 
"  Have  you  got  any  paper  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Daniel.  "  I  don't  need  any  paper.  I  have  got 
something  else  that  will  do  very  well." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  his  aunt. 


THE    HERON.  123 


Daniel  begins  his  work.  He  succeeds  remarkably  well. 

"  Some  shingles,"  replied  Daniel.  "  There  are  plenty  of  shin- 
gles in  the  barn,  and  I  have  chosen  out  two  or  three  that  are 
broad,  and  very  smooth,  and  I  can  draw  on  them  very  well." 

"Yes,"  said  his  aunt,  "  I  should  think  that  they  would  be  excel- 
lent to  draw  upon." 

Daniel  brought  in  one  of  his  shingles  that  evening,  and  com- 
menced his  drawing.  He  examined  his  model  anew  before  he  be- 
gan to  copy  it,  studying  it  with  special  reference  to  the  direction 
and  length  of  his  guide-line,  and  to  the  position  and  size  of  his 
oval  for  the  body  of  the  bird,  and  of  his  circle  for  the  curve  of  the 
head  and  neck.  Then  he  carefully  sketched  the  guide-line,  and 
the  oval  and  circle,  on  his  shingle,  toward  the  upper  left-hand 
corner  of  it,  taking  care  to  get  them  in  the  same  relative  positions, 
as  nearly  as  possible,  as  the  imaginary  ones  in  the  model.  This 
enabled  him  to  draw  the  great  leading  features  of  the  model  in  a 
very  correct  manner,  after  which,  it  was  comparatively  easy  to 
put  in  the  other  details,  such  as  the  bill,  the  eye,  the  feathers  on 
the  breast,  the  tips  of  the  wings,  and  the  toes  standing  on  the 
ground.  Finally,  when  his  work  was  done,  he  found  that  he  had 
delineated  the  form  of  the  heron  very  correctly  indeed. 

In  the  same  manner,  Daniel  made  copies  of  other  pictures,  from 
time  to  time,  until,  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  he  had  filled  five 
shingles  with  drawings  ;  and,  as  he  arranged  his  several  lessons 
on  the  shingles  in  a  neat  and  systematic  manner,  the  whole  had  a 
very  pretty  effect.  In  doing  this  work,  he  studied  the  forms  of 
his  models  so  thoroughly,  that  he  afterward  carried  them  in  his 
mind,  and  could  draw  them  very  well  from  memory. 

By  comparing  the  case  of  Daniel  with, that  of  Lafayette,  we  see 


124  THE    WILD    GEESE. 


Wild  geese  swimming  in  a  pond.  Flock  in  the  air. 

that,  in  point  of  enabling  one  to  learn  to  draw,  the  habit  of  careful 
and  attentive  study,  with  a  view  to  understanding,  beforehand, 
what  one  is  to  do,  and  of  patient  and  persevering  industry  in  do- 
ing it,  is  of  more  value  than  the  most  expensive  set  of  drawing 
books  and  of  drawing  materials  that  can  be  bought  in  New  York. 


STUDY  XXX. 

THE      WILD     GEESE. 


We  have,  on  the  opposite  page,  an  engraving  which  illustrates 
an  important  principle  in  perspective,  which  is,  that  the  more  re- 
mote an  object  is,  the  smaller  it  appears. 

In  the  foreground  are  some  wild  geese  swimming  in  a  pond. 
The  water  is  shallow,  as  we  know  from  the  flags  and  bulrushes 
that  grow  in  it.  In  the  middle  distance,  on  the  right,  is  a  heron 
standing  among  the  flags.  We  see  by  his  feet  that  the  water  is 
very  shallow  where  he  stands.  His  legs  are  very  long,  so  that  he 
can  wade  where  the  water  is  much  deeper  than  it  is  at  the  place 
where  he  is  now  standing.  The  water  is  pretty  deep  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  pond.  At  least  we  presume  so,  for  there  the  flags  and 
bulrushes  do  not  grow. 

The  geese  have  no  occasion  to  wade.  They  can  swTim.  Four 
of  them  are  now  swimming  in  the  water  in  the  foreground,  though 
one  is  just  spreading  his  wings  to  fly. 

Besides  these  four  that  are  swimming  upon  the  water,  there  are 
five  more  geese  belonging  to  the  same  flock  in  the  air.  They 
were  swimming  on  the  water  a  few  minutes  ago,  in  a  long  line. 


THE    WILD    GEESE. 


125 


A  principle  of  perspective. 


Order  of  flight. 


The  leader  of  the  line,  for  some  reason  or  other,  concluded  to  fly 
away.  All  the  rest  then  immediately  resolved  to  follow.  They 
rose  one  after  another,  in  succession,  from  the  water,  until  five  arc 
on  the  wing,  and  the  sixth  is  just  rising.  The  seventh,  eighth, 
and  ninth  are  looking  up,  preparing  to  rise  too  as  soon  as  their 


THE    WILD    GEESE    FLYING. 


turn  comes.  Then  the  whole  flock  will  soar  away  through  the 
air  in  a  long  line,  wherever  the  leader  conducts  them. 

The  leader — that  is,  the  first  and  most  distant  one  in  the  line — 
looks  quite  small.  The  next  one — that  is,  the  one  that  comes  im- 
mediately after  him — appears  a  little  larger,  the  next  larger  still, 
and  so  on  in  succession,  until  we  come  to  those  that  are  nearest 
to  us,  swimming  on  the  water  of  the  pond,  which  are  the  largest 
of  all.  They  are  all  really  of  the  same  size,  but  they  appear 
larger  or  smaller  according  as  they  are  nearer  or  more  remote 
from  the  observer. 

It  is  always  so  with  objects  seen  in  perspective. 

In  the  sky,  over  the  middle  of  th&  picture,  is   another  large 


126  THE    WILD    GEESE. 


Wild  geese  are  birds  of  passage.  Their  habits. 

flock  of  geese  flying,  as  wild,  geese  very  frequently  do,  in  two 
lines  which  meet  in  a  point.  The  leader  of  the  flock  is  at  the 
point  where  the  two  lines  meet. 

We  know  that  this  double  flock  are  flying  away  from  us,  and 
not  coming  toward  us,  from  the  fact  that  the  geese  that  are  to- 
ward the  end  of  the  lines  where  they  meet  in  a  point,  and  where 
the  leader  is,  appear  smaller  than  those  at  the  other  end.  Of 
course,  that  end  of  the  line  is  more  remote  from  us.  The  flock 
are  rising  into  the  air,  and  going  away  at  the  same  time.  The 
flock  is  a  very  large  one.  The  number  of  geese  in  it  is  so  great 
that  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  count  them. 

Wild  geese  are  birds  of  passage — that  is,  they  do  not  live  all 
the  year  in  one  country.  In  the  summer  they  go  far  to  the  north, 
and  build  their  nests  and  seek  their  food  in  the  lakes  and  ponds 
which  they  find  in  lonely  places  there,  where  there  is  no  one  to 
molest  or  disturb  them.  At  that  season,  these  ponds,  though  sit- 
uated in  northern  climes,  form  very  pleasant  habitations  for  them. 
The  waters  are  warm,  the  banks  of  the  pond  are  green,  the  mar- 
gins are  fringed  with  flags  and  bulrushes,  and  the  warm  sun  shines 
pleasantly  into  all  the  little  inlets,  creeks,  and  coves.  Here  they 
build  their  nests.  Here  they  wade,  and  swim,  and  seek  their 
food,  leading  their  young  goslings  with  them  as  soon  as  they  are 
hatched.  They  pass  the  summer  here,  and  then,  when  they  find 
the  winter  is  coming  on,  they  assemble  in  immense  flocks,  and 
under  the  guidance  of  their  leader  they  soar  into  the  air  to  a  vast 
height,  and  set  out  on  their  journey  to  the  southward. 

They  always  have  a  leader,  but  by  what  means  they  determine 
which  of  all  the  flock  shall  be  the  leader,  nobody  knows. 


THE    WILD    GEESE. 


127 


They  fly  to  vast  distances  from  north  to  south. 


In  their  passage  to  the  southward  they  soar  into  the  air  to  a 
vast  height,  and  then  fly  for  thousands  of  miles  over  states  and 
kingdoms,  over  forests  and  mountains,  over  rivers  and  broad  seas, 
till  they  come  to  the  warm  regions  of  the  South,  where  frost  and 
snow  never  are  seen.  Here  they  remain  till  the  winter  season  at 
the  North  is  over.  While  the  ponds  there,  in  which  they  reared 
their  young,  are  frozen  over,  and  every  thing  around  them  is  cold, 
snowy,  and  desolate,  the  geese  are  enjoying  themselves  in  warm 
and  sunny  morasses  and  fens  in  tropical  climes  ;  and  when,  at 
length,  the  time  arrives  for  the  spring  to  come  on  in  the  northern 
regions,  then  they  go  back  again  as  they  came. 

How  they  find  out  when  it  is  time  for  the  spring  to  come  on  at 
the  North,  nobody  knows. 

Wild  geese  always  fly  m  long  lines.  You  can  see,  in  the  pic- 
ture, that  those  which  are  in  the  flock  that  is  rising  off  from  the 
water  are  flying  away  in  a  line.     The  large  flock,  too,  is  formed  in 

two  lines  meeting  in 
a  point.  We  see  the 
same  tendency  in  the 
habits  of  tame  geese 
living  in  farm-yards. 
In  going  out  to  feed 
in  the  morning,  and  in 
coming  home  at  night, 
they  march  in  a  line, 
following  their  leader  wherever  he  goes,  and  walking  with  an 
air  of  great  dignity  and  solemnity.  They  walk  thus  all  the  way 
in  single  column,  each  bird  keeping  his  place  exactly  behind  his 


GEESE    ON    A    MAKCH. 


128  THE    WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW. 

Habit  of  geese  of  moving  in  lines.  The  wagon. 

predecessor,  in  regular  succession,  like  a  file  of  men  marching 
under  a  corporal  to  relieve  a  guard.  Thus  there  seems  to  be 
some  curious  and  mysterious  propensity  inherent  in  the  nature  of 
the  goose,  leading  them  all,  whether  wild  or  tame,  to  move  in  this 
manner  when  going  in  company  from  place  to  place.  This  is  the 
more  remarkable,  as  we  do  not  observe  any  such  propensity  in 
other  animals.  Hens  do  not  do  so  ;  neither  do  sheep,  nor  horses, 
nor  cows,  though  they  often  go  in  company  and  in  concert,  from 
one  place  to  another,  following  a  leader.  Ducks,  however,  form 
lines  like  geese,  and  the  nature  of  the  duck  is,  in  other  respects, 
similar  to  that  of  the  goose.  On  the  whole,  we  conclude  that 
there  must  be  some  reason,  arising  out  of  the  wants  and  necessi- 
ties of  such  animals  as  the  goose,  or  out  of  the  dangers  to  which 
they  are  exposed,  which  has  caused  them  to  be  provided  with  such 
instinct,  though  what  this  reason  is  we  do  not  know. 


STUDY  XXXI. 

THE    WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW. 

In  England,  in  old  times,  before  rail-roads  were  built,  the  whole 
country  was  traversed  by  stage-coaches,  and  also  by  wagons,  for 
conveying  passengers  and  parcels  from  place  to  place.  The  stage- 
coaches were  the  most  comfortable,  and  they  went  the  fastest,  but 
the  price  was  high.  Accordingly,  only  such  people  as  were  well 
supplied  with  money  were  accustomed  to  travel  in  them,  and  few 
parcels  were  taken  except  such  as  were  small  or  of  considerable 
value.     The  wagons  traveled  more  slowly,   and  the  seats  wTere 


THE    WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW.  129 

The  canvas  roof.  Mode  of  representing  the  flakes  of  snow. 

not  so  comfortable  ;  but  then  they  were  much  cheaper.  Thus 
people  who  had  but  little  money  traveled  in  wagons,  and  parcels 
larger  or  less  valuable  than  those  sent  by  the  stage-coaches  were 
conveyed  in  them. 

The  wagons  were  covered  with  a  canvas  roof,  to  protect  the 
travelers  within  from  wind  and  rain.  The  canvas  was  supported 
by  a  frame  formed  of  slender  wooden  bars,  which  were  carried 
over  from  one  side  to  the  other,  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle. 

The  travelers  were  accustomed  to  sit  on  seats  that  passed  across 
the  wagon  from  one  side  to  the  other,  under  this  awning.  The 
driver  sat  on  a  seat  in  front,  near  the  horses. 

Over  the  leaf  we  have  a  picture  of  one  of  these  wagons  fast  in 
the  snow.  There  has  been  a  great  snow-storm.  The  storm  is, 
in  fact,  not  yet  over,  for  we  see  the  flakes  of  snow  still  falling. 
We  see  these  flakes  only  in  the  dark  parts  of  the  picture,  for,  be- 
ing white,  they  can  only  be  represented  on  a  dark  ground.  Thus 
they  show  very  plainly  against  the  side  of  the  forward  horse, 
which  is  a  black  one,  but  not  against  the  side  of  the  horse  in  the 
shafts,  for  he  is  white.  The  flakes  are  seen  relieved  against  a 
dark  surface,  too,  in  the  figures  of  some  of  the  people,  in  the  shad- 
ows on  the  ground,  in  the  dark  parts  of  the  drawing  of  the  wagon, 
and  in  the  clouds  of  the  sky. 

The  wagon  is  set  fast  in  the  snow.  Farther  back  on  the  road 
the  driver  succeeded  in  getting  along  without  much  difficulty,  for 
there  the  snow  lay  evenly,  and  was  not  very  deep.  He  has,  how- 
ever, now  come  to  a  low  place,  where  the  snow  has  been  driven  in 
and  drifted  by  the  wind,  and  the  horses  can  not  draw  the  wagon 
through  it.  The  wTheels  of  the  wagotuare  half  buried,  and  the 
12  T 


130  THE  WAGON  IN  THE  SNOW. 

Whip-lash  lost.  Passengers  remonstrating  with  the  wagoner. 

horses  stand  in  snow  so  deep  that  it  comes  up  above  their  knees. 
The  man  has  a  long  whip-handle  in  his  hand,  with  which  he  seems 
about  to  whip  his  horses  to  urge  them  on.  But  they  can  not  go 
on.  The  snow  is  so  deep  that  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  draw 
the  wagon  through  it. 

The  man  has  lost  his  whip-lash  in  whipping  his  horses.  The 
horses  look  frightened,  but  they  can  not  move.  They  stretch  out 
their  heads  and  necks  to  avoid  the  blow  that  they  know  is  impend- 
ing. It  is  cruel  for  the  driver  to  whip  his  horses  when  they  can 
not  draw  the  load. 

Some  of  the  passengers  are  remonstrating  with  the  wagoner. 
There  are  three  that  have  got  out  of  the  wagon  and  are  now  stand- 
ing in  the  snow.  They  got  out  of  the  wagon  in  order  to  lighten 
it,  and  so  make  it  easier  for  the  horses  to  draw  it.  Two  of  them 
are  women  and  one  of  them  is  a  man.  They  all  have  long  cloaks 
on.  They  look  old  and  poor.  One  of  the  women  seems  to  be 
lame.  She  walks  with  a  cane,  and  leans  upon  it  as  if  it  would  be 
difficult  for  her  to  walk  without  it.  I  should  suppose,  however, 
that  she  can  not  be  very  lame,  or  she  would  not  have  got  out  into 
the  snow. 

The  man  stands  behind  the  two  women.  He  has  not  only  got 
out  himself,  but  he  has  taken  out  his  trunk,  and  opened  it  on  the 
snow.  He  opened  it,  I  suppose,  to  get  some  warm  mittens,  or 
some  other  article  of  clothing  to  protect  him  from  the  cold. 

The  foremost  woman  is  the  one  who  is  remonstrating  with  the 
wagoner.  "  Do  not  whip  the  poor  horses  any  more,"  says  she. 
"  They  can  not  draw  the  wagon  through  all  this  snow.  You 
must  not  whip  them." 


THE    WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW. 


131 


Picture  of  the  wagon  in  the  snow. 


So  saying,  she  puts  out  her  arm  to  arrest  the  stroke  which  she 


sees  the  wagoner  about  to 
give  to  the  poor  tired  leader. 
At  the  place  where  the 
woman  and  the  wagoner 
stand,  the  snow  is  not  so 
deep  as  it  is  where  the  wag- 
on and  the  horses  are.  The 
people  are  standing  upon  a 
bank  by  the  road  side,  while  the  horses  and  the  wagon  are  in  the 


THE    WAGON    IN    THE    SNOW. 


132  THE  WAGON  IN  THE  SNOW. 


The  best  thing  to  be  done.  The  two  women  in  the  wagon. 

road.  The  bank  is  higher  than  the  road,  and  so  the  snow  is  not 
so  deep  there.  If  the  wagoner  could  get  his  horses  to  draw  the 
wagon,  with  the  people  that  still  remain  in  it,  through  the  deep 
place,  the  three  passengers  that  have  got  out  would  walk  on 
along  the  bank,  and  then  get  in  again.  But  this  will  be  very 
difficult.  The  best  way  is  for  the  wagoner  to  make  a  path  be- 
fore the  horses  by  trampling  down  the  snow  with  his  feet,  and 
then  to  clear  the  way  for  the  wrieels  by  trampling  down  the  snow 
there  too,  or  pushing  it  out  to  one  side  and  the  other.  Such  a 
snow  as  this  wagon  is  fast  m  is  usually  very  light,  and  when  it 
has  freshly  fallen  it  is  quite  easily  trampled  dowTn  or  pushed 
away. 

There  are  two  persons  still  remaining  in  the  wagon.  One  is  a 
young  woman  in  feeble  health.  The  other  is  a  mother  with  an 
infant  in  her  arms.  The  young  woman  wishes  to  get  out,  and  is 
half  disposed  to  do  so,  but  the  mother  presses  the  infant  to  her 
bosom,  and  determines  to  remain  in  the  wagon  at  all  hazards 
rather  than  expose  her  dear  babe  in  the  least  degree  to  the  storm. 

In  the  foreground  of  the  picture  is  a  guide-board  fastened  to  a 
post.  The  post  leans  back  out  of  the  perpendicular,  and  the  up- 
per edge  of  the  board  is  so  covered  with  snow  that  it  is  difficult 
to  read  the  inscription. 

There  are  three  snow-birds  on  the  snow  before  the  guide-board. 
They  are  hopping  about  in  search  of  something  to  eat.  The  food 
which  they  find  consists  of  little  seeds  which  remain  in  the  sprigs 
of  grass  of  the  last  season  that  rise,  sometimes,  here  and  there, 
above  the  snow.  There  is  another  snow-bird  perched  upon  the 
guide-board.    In  the  background  are  some  trees,  with  their  branch- 


THE    LOG-CABIN.  133 


A  pollard.  Meaning  of  the  term.  The  log-cabin. 

es  bare.  Those  on  the  left  are  of  their  natural  forms.  They  ap- 
pear to  be  maples  or  birches.  Those  on  the  right  are  pollard 
willows. 

A  pollard  is  a  tree  the  main  trunk  of  which  has  been  cut  off  at 
a  certain  distance  above  the  ground,  in  order  that  it  may  throw 
out  numerous  new  branches.  Willows  are  very  often  cut  down 
in  this  manner,  and  then,  when  the  new  branches  have  grown  out, 
a  thick  head  is  formed  of  limbs  spreading  out  in  every  direction 
from  the  top  of  a  short,  thick  trunk.  Such  a  tree  is  called  a  pol- 
lard. 


STUDY  XXXII. 

THE     LOG-CABIN. 


On  the  next  page  is  a  picture  of  a  log-cabin,  similar  to  the  one 
that  Daniel  Hunter  lived  in.  When  men  buy  themselves  farms, 
far  back  in  the  woods,  where  there  are  a  great  many  tall  trees 
growing  all  around  them,  with  straight  stems,  so  that  plenty  of 
logs  can  be  obtained  easily,  and  especially  if  there  are  no  mills 
built  to  saw  the  logs  up  into  timber  and  boards,  they  find  it  easier 
to  build  a  log-house  than  any  other  kind. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  regions  that  have  been  long  settled,  where 
a  large  portion  of  the  forest  trees  have  been  cut  down,  and  where 
mills  have  been  built  for  the  purpose  of  sawing  up  the  logs  into 
timber  and  boards,  there  it  is  much  better  to  build  frame-houses. 
The  logs  are  too  valuable  to  be  used  whole.  If  they  are  sawed 
up  into  boards,  and  put  upon  a  frame,  a  much  smaller  number 


134 


THE    LOG-CABIN. 


Mode  of  constructing  a  cabin  or  a  house  of  logs. 


will  be  sufficient  than  if  the  house  is  built  by  piling  them  one 
above  another  like  a  wall. 

It  takes  much  more  wood  to  build  a  house  of  logs  than  to  frame 
it  and  cover  it  with  boards ;  but  this,  where  the  trees  are  plenti- 
ful, and  grow  all  around  the  place  where  the  house  is  to  stand,  is 
of  no  consequence. 

In  this  picture 
we  see,  in  the  fore- 
ground, the  stumps 
of  some  of  the  trees 
which  the  man  cut 
down  to  get  logs 
to  build  his  house 
with.  The  other 
trees  grew  to  the 
left  of  the  house, 
or  behind  it  in  the 
wood,  or  else  to 
the  right,  along  the 
banks  of  the  brooks 
that  you  see  mean- 
dering there. 

In  building  such  a  house,  the  logs  are  piled  up,  one  upon  the 
top  of  the  other,  like  a  wall.  The  ends  of  them  are  crossed  at 
the  corners,  and  notched  together  there,  and  this  keeps  them  all 
in  their  places.  It  would  not  be  possible  to  build  a  single  wall  of 
logs  in  this  manner,  for  there  would  be  nothing  to  keep  those  that 
were  placed  above  the  rest  from  falling  down.     But  four  walls 


COMPOSITION.  135 


Mutual  support.  What  is  meant  by  composition. 

joined  together  at  the  corners  may  be  easily  built,  for  in  that 
case,  those  which  form  the  two  ends  keep  those  which  form  the 
sides  in  their  places  by  being-  notched  into  them  at  the  corners. 
In  the  same  manner,  the  logs  which  form  the  sides  keep  those 
which  form  the  ends  in  their  places.  Thus,  by  building  four  walls 
in  connection  with  each  other,  the  logs  of  the  end  walls  and  those 
of  the  side  walls  lend  each  other  a  mutual  support. 

In  building  the  house,  proper  openings  are  left  for  a  window 
and  a  door. 

The  man  who  built  this  house  left  two  or  three  trees  standing 
by  the  corner  of  it,  near  the  door,  for  ornament  and  shade. 

Behind  the  house  is  a  very  dark  wood,  and  behind  the  wood  a 
high  rocky  hill. 


STUDY  XXXIII. 

COMPOSITION. 


In  looking  at  pictures  of  any  kind,  whether  paintings  or  engrav- 
ings, the  observer  should  always  notice  what  is  called  the  compo- 
sition of  them.  By  the  composition  of  a  design,  the  artists  mean 
the  selection  and  arrangement  of  the  figures  or  other  objects  rep- 
resented in  it.  There  are  certain  principles  which  it  is  necessary 
to  observe  in  the  composition  of  a  picture,  otherwise  a  bad  effect 
will  be  produced  instead  of  a  good  one. 

One  of  these  principles  is,  that  there  should  be  a  variety  in  the 
forms  and  attitudes  of  the  figures  represented,  and  that  they  should 
be  grouped  in  an  easy  and  graceful  manner. 


136 


COMPOSITION. 


The  group  of  reapers. 


Art  of  the  designer. 


We  have  in  this  engraving,  for  example,  a  company  of  reap- 
ers in  a  field  of  wheat.  Observe  how  much  variety  the  artist  has 
given  to  the  figures,  and  to  the  positions  in  which  he  has  placed 


'^m^m&m^ "' --'1:~^' 


A.    COMPOSITION. 


them.  In  the  foreground,  to  the  left,  there  is  one  kneeling  upon  the 
ground  before  a  sheaf  of  wheat  which  he  is  binding  up.  To  the 
right  are  two  other  figures.     One  of  them  is  reaping,  the  other  is 


COMPOSITION.  13" 


Variety  in  the  forms  and  the  arrangement  of  the  groups. 


drinking  water  from  a  jug.  Thus  each  of  the  three  principal  fig- 
ures in  the  foreground  is  in  a  different  position  and  attitude  from 
the  rest,  and,  viewed  in  connection  with  each  other,  they  form  a 
varied  and  graceful  group.  The  man  who  is  drinking  lifts  the  jug 
to  his  mouth  with  his  right  hand,  while  he  holds  his  sickle  behind 
him  in  his  left.  We  see  the  sickle  of  the  other  reaper  too,  as  he 
passes  it  round  the  stalks  of  the  grain  that  he  has  gathered  in  his 
hand.  The  two  sickles,  however,  are  held  in  such  different  po- 
sitions, and  present  themselves  under  such  different  points  of  view, 
as  to  add  to  the  variety. 

Observe,  too,  how  varied  are  the  forms  and  attitudes  of  the 
three  men.  One  is  standing  erect.  Another  is  bending  over  to 
to  his  work.  The  third  is  kneeling  upon  the  ground.  The  one 
who  is  kneeling  has  his  face  toward  us.  The  middle  one  has  his 
back  toward  us,  and  the  third  his  side.  The  dresses  of  the  two 
who  are  standing  together  are  made  different  too.  One  wears 
trowsers  coming  down  to  his  ankles.  In  the  other,  the  stockings 
come  up  to  the  knees.  In  one,  the  back  of  the  vest  is  white  ;  in 
the  other  it  is  black.  Now  all  these  diversities  in  the  details  of 
the  different  figures  are  not  accidental,  as  it  might  seem,  but  they 
were  all  carefully  planned  and  designed  by  the  artist,  to  give  in- 
terest and  spirit  to  his  drawing. 

In  the  background  are  three  men  reaping.  It  was  necessary 
that  there  should  be  several  laborers  engaged  in  cutting  down  the 
grain,  in  order  to  make  the  design  true  to  nature  ;  but  it  would 
have  made  the  picture  monotonous  and  spiritless  to  have  had  these 
men  engaged  all  in  the  same  employment,  and  placed  as  the  prom- 
inent figures  in   the  foreground,  and  so  the  artist  has  removed 


138  COMPOSITION. 


The  house  in  the  background. 


them  back  where. their  forms  may  be  smaller,  and  the  effect  they 
produce  be  somewhat  subdued.  They  are  all  necessarily  engaged 
in  the  same  work,  but  the  artist  has  given  variety  to  the  group 
by  varying,  as  much  as  possible,  the  attitudes  in  which  the  men 
stand. 

Take,  now,  a  general  survey  of  the  wThole  group  of  laborers — six 
in  all — and  see  with  how  much  ease  and  gracefulness  the  artist 
has  arranged  them,  so  as  to  make  the  character  and  expression 
of  the  whole  agreeable  to  the  eye. 

The  form  and  position  of  the  house  in  the  background,  with  the 
hedgerow  in  front  of  it,  and  a  group  of  trees  behind,  is  included 
in  the  composition  of  the  picture,  and  very  much  of  the  general 
effect  of  the  whole  depends  upon  them.  It  was  necessary,  in  or- 
der to  give  a  just  representation  of  a  wheat-field,  to  show  a  broad 
expanse  of  level  surface.  This  the  artist  has  done.  If  he  had, 
however,  drawn  nothing  more  than  this,  the  scene  would  have- 
been  dull  and  monotonous.  So  he  contrived  some  tall  and  dark 
objects  to  place  in  the  background,  as  a  relief.  He  invented  a 
house  of  a  very  peculiar  form  and  outline,  and  gave  life  and  spirit 
to  the  drawing  of  it  by  putting  the  roof  and  all  the  parts  toward 
the  left  in  shadow,  and  throwing  a  strong  light  upon  the  end  that 
is  turned  this  way.  Behind  the  house  is  a  grove  of  trees  very 
gracefully  grouped.  From  the  centre,  a  tall  tree  rises  high  above 
the  rest,  giving  a  marked  and  striking  character  to  the  group. 
The  dark  stem  of  this  tree,  rising  from  the  midst  of  the  other  fo- 
liage, has  a  very  spirited  effect,  and  the  background,  contrasting 
in  its  character  strongly  as  it  does  with  the  level  surface  of  the 
field,  gives  great  life  and  spirit  to  the  picture. 


THE    LOAD    OF    STRAW.  139 

What  is  meant  by  the  composition  of  a  picture.  Selecting  subjects. 

You  now  understand  what  is  meant  by  the  composition  of  a  pic- 
ture. It  relates  to  the  selection  of  the  figures  and  objects  to  be 
introduced  into  it,  and  to  the  manner  in  which  they  are  grouped 
and  arranged  by  the  artist,  with  a  view  to  producing  the  most 
agreeable  effect. 

There  are  two  very  great  and  perfectly  distinct  advantages  to 
be  derived  from  thus  studying  the  subject  of  the  composition  of 
designs.     They  are  these. 

1.  It  will  help  you  in  drawing  pictures  yourselves. 

2.  It  will  help  you  very  much  to  understand  and  enjoy  the  pic- 
tures which  others  have  drawn. 


STUDY   XXXIV. 

THE     LOAD    OF     STRAW. 


Sometimes  artists,  in  making  a  picture,  compose  the  design 
themselves,  from  their  own  imagination.  At  other  times  they 
simply  copy  some  actual  group,  or  assemblage  of  objects,  which 
they  see  in  nature.  In  this  last  case  nature  is  the  composer,  and 
they,  in  drawing  their  picture,  only  copy  the  composition  which 
she  has  made  for  them. 

It  requires  almost  as  much  taste,  and  skill,  and  knowledge  of 
the  principles  of  composition,  to  select  a  good  subject  from  nature, 
as  to  design  one  by  the  imagination  ;  for  very  often  the  form  and 
manner  in  which  objects  are  grouped  in  reality  are  such  that  the 
effect  of  them  would  not  be  good  in  a  drawing.  But  then,  in  such 
cases,  by  changing  the  point  of  view  from  which  they  are  seen, 


140 


THE    LOAD    OF    STRAW. 


The  large  load  of  straw. 


Contrivances  of  the  artist. 


THE    LOAD    OF    STRAW 


or  making  some  small  alterations  in  the  details,  the  effect  will 
often  become  good. 

c  Here,  for  example,  is  a 

view  of  a  very  large  load 
of  bundles  of  straw,  drawn 
by  two  horses,  coming 
||?  along  a  level  road  in  the 
country.  It  is  very  prob- 
able that  the  artist  who 
made  the  drawing  saw  an 
object  of  this  kind  some 
day,  when  taking  a  wTalk, 
and  that  he  determined  to 
make  a  drawing  of  it  when  he  reached  home.  If  so,  it  is  to  be 
presumed  that  in  some  of  the  details  he  varied  his  drawing  from 
the  original  view,  in  order  to  make  it  more  spirited  and  pictv 
esque. 

The  two  horses,  for  example,  as  you  see  them  in  the  engraving, 
are  of  different  colors,  the  leader  being  white,  and  the  shaft  horse 
black,  or  at  least  of  some  dark  color.  It  is  possible  that  the 
actual  horses,  as  the  artist  saw  them,  may  have  been  really  alike, 
and  that  the  difference  made  in  them  in  the  drawing  may  have 
been  an  idea  of  his  own,  to  give  spirit  and  variety  to  the  aspect 
of  the  team.  In  the  same  maimer,  the  difference  in  the  attitude 
and  position  in  which  we  see  them  may  very  likely  have  origina- 
ted in  the  imagination  of  the  artist.  As  he  saw  them,  perhaps, 
they  were  walking  along,  one  after  the  other,  precisely  alike, 
whereas  in  the  drawing  their  positions  are  varied,  so  that  we  have 


GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS.  141 

Various  objects  introduced  by  the  artist.  The  English  farm-house. 


almost  a  front  view  of  the  leader,  and  a  side  view  of  the  one  in 
the  shafts. 

In  the  same  manner,  the  two  men  may  have  been  both  upon  the 
ground,  walking  together  by  the  side  of  the  horses,  and  trie  artist, 
thinking  that  he  would  thereby  add  to  the  interest  of  the  picture, 
conceived  the  idea  of  putting  one  of  them,  with  a  little  dog  by  his 
side,  upon  the  top  of  the  load. 

There  are  various  other  objects  introduced  into  the  picture,  any 
or  all  of  which  may  have  been  the  invention  of  the  artist,  such  as 
the  gate  on  the  left  of  the  horses,  the  beautiful  elm-tree  in  the  field 
behind  the  gate,  the  road  seen  winding  in  the  distance  across  the 
plain,  behind  the  teamster,  who  is  walking  by  the  wagon,  the  group 
of  trees  and  foliage  in  the  foreground,  to  the  right,  and  the  water 
at  the  foot  of  these  trees,  issuing  from  under  the  little  arch  by  the 
side  of  the  road.  All  these  things  add  much  to  the  interest  of  the 
composition  of  this  picture,  but  whether  Nature  or  the  artist  was 
the  composer  who  arranged  them  as  they  are  here  seen,  I  do  not 
know. 


STUDY  XXXV. 

GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS. 

Over  the  leaf  is  a  view  of  the  rear  of  an  English  farm-house, 
with  the  beams  of  the  frame  visible  in  the  end  of  it,  according  to 
a  mode  of  building  customary  in  that  country.  We  see  the  yard 
of  the  house,  too,  with  trees  on  each  side.  In  the  centre  of  the 
yard,  two  women  are  talking  together,  and  a  little  dog  is  jumping 


142  GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS. 


Wrong  way  of  proceeding.  Example.  Gable  ends. 

about  near  them.-  To  the  right  is  a  well,  with  a  roof  over  it,  and 
a  windlass  for  drawing  up  the  water. 

This  view  will  make  an  excellent  drawing  for  those  who  have 
patience  and  perseverance  enough  to  proceed  properly  in  drawing 
it. 

The  method  which  new  beginners  often  adopt  in  drawing  such 
a  scene  as  this,  is  to  commence  on  one  side,  and  advance  regular- 
ly toward  the  other,  drawing  the  several  parts  of  the  picture  in 
succession  as  they  proceed.  The  result  is  often — as  it  was  in  the 
case  of  Lafayette  Livingston,  described  in  a  former  study — that 
they  get  off  the  paper  before  they  get  half  through  with  the  de- 
sign. 

For  instance,  that  was  the  way  that  a  boy  proceeded  in  drawing 
this  very  design.  He  began  with  the  chimney  on  the  left-hand 
side  of  the  building.  He  drew  this  chimney  pretty  well,  only,  as 
he  had  nothing  to  guide  him  in  respect  to  the  size  of  it,  he  made 
it  considerably  too  large.  He  then  began  upon  the  roof  of  the 
large  gable,*  and  first  drew  the  slanting  line  which  forms  the  left- 
hand  side  of  the  roof.  Now,  as  he  had  nothing  to  guide  him  in 
respect  to  the  slanting  of  this  line,  or  to  the  length  of  it,  he  made 
it  both  too  slanting  and  too  long.  Then  he  proceeded  to  make 
the  slope  on  the  other  side  of  the  roof,  and  as  he  had  nothing  to 
guide  him  here,  he  got  the  slant  on  this  side  different  from  that 
on  the  other,  so  as  to  make  the  roof  look  one-sided.     In  survey- 

*  The  end  of  a  house,  or  portico,  or  other  building,  which  is  surmounted  by  the  two 
edges  of  the  roof  meeting  at  a  point  in  the  centre  above,  is  called  a  gable  end,  the 
triangular  part  above  being  called  the  gable.  In  this  picture  there  are  two  gables,  a 
large  and  a  small  one.     The  small  one  belongs  to  a  sort  of  portico. 


GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS. 


143 


Necessity  of  first  marking  boundaries. 


ing  his  work  after  he  had  got  it  done  thus  far,  he  saw  that  there 
was  plainly  something  wrong  in  it,  but  he  could  not  tell  exactly 
what.  So  he  simply  rubbed  out  the  right-hand  slope  of  the  roof, 
and  drew  it  again  ;  but  as  he  had  nothing  to  guide  him  now  more 
than  he  had  before,  he  did  not  get  it  much  nearer  right.  He 
thought  it  would  answer,  however,  or,  at  least,  he  despaired  of 
making  it  better,  and  so  he  went  on.     He  then  drew  the  small 


gable.  He  made  this  too  wide  too,  and  the  roof  of  it  one-sided. 
Thus  he  went  on  ;  and  when  at  last  he  got  to  the  end  of  the  house, 
he  found  that  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  paper,  and  there  was  no 
room  for  the  fence  or  for  the  well  at  all. 

Now,  to  guard  against  these  dangers,  and  to  secure  having  every 
part  of  your  copy  in  its  proper  place,  and  of  its  just  proportion,  you 
must  determine  the  places  of  the  several  important  points  in  your 


144  GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS. 


Finding  the  centre.  Convenient  mode  of  measuring. 

drawing  first,  and  make  points  upon  your  paper  to  denote  them. 
These  points  will  serve  as  guides,  and  then,  when  you  have  drawn 
the  intermediate  parts  of  the  design  properly  between  them,  all 
will  be  right. 

Find,  for  instance,  in  this  picture,  the  point  which  comes  nearest 
to  the  centre  of  it.  I  think  the  centre  is  as  nearly  as  possible  at 
the  lower  right-hand  corner  of  the  roof  of  the  portico.  Fix  your 
eye  on  that  point,  and  then  look  up  first  to  the  top  of  the  clouds, 
and  then  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  ground,  and  see  if  the  distance 
is  not  nearly  the  same.  It  is.  You  can  be  sure  of  this  by  meas- 
uring the  distances  by  the  edge  of  a  piece  of  paper  which  you  can 
lay  upon  the  picture.* 

In  the  same  manner,  you  will  see  that  the  distance  from  this 
point  to  the  edge  of  the  picture  on  the  left  is  the  same  as  to  the 
edge  of  the  picture  on  the  right.  Thus  you  will  find  it  to  be  in 
the  centre,  both  from  left  to  right,  and  from  top  to  bottom. 

You  then  make  a  very  fine  dot  in  the  centre  of  your  paper,  or 
of  that  part  of  it  in  which  your  drawing  is  to  be.  This  will,  of 
course,  mark  the  place  where  the  lower  end  of  this  roof-line — that 
is,  the  right-hand  side  of  the  small  gable — is  to  come. 

You  then  observe  that  from  this  point  down  to  the  bottom  ot 
the  portico  is  just  about  half  way  to  the  lower  edge  of  the  picture 
in  the  foreground,  and  you  make  another  dot  there  for  the  lower 

*  The  edge  of  a  piece  of  paper  laid  thus  upon  a  picture  is  a  better  instrument  for 
measuring  lines  or  distances  than  dividers.  It  is  easy  and  convenient  to  use,  and 
then  there  is  no  danger  of  injuring  your  model  with  it.  You  make  dots  on  the  edge 
of  the  paper  to  mark  the  places  of  any  two  points  in  the  picture,  when  you  wish  to 
ascertain  the  distance  they  are  from  each  other,  and  to  compare  it  with  any  other  dis- 
tance. 


GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS. 


145 


Difficulty  in  respect  to  the  gable  ends  of  buildings. 


end  of  the  line  which  forms  the  right-hand  side  of  the  portico.  In 
the  same  manner,  you  determine  the  place  of  the  upper  edge  of 
the  roof  of  the  house  by  observing  how  far  it  is  above  the  central 
point  first  fixed.  You  make  a  faint  line  there  to  sketch  the  prop- 
er place  for  it.  In  the  same  manner,  you  determine  the  place 
where  the  right-hand  side  of  the  house  should  be  drawn,  where 
the  road  goes  round  behind  it,  and  also  the  left-hand  side  of  it, 
where  the  chimney  is.  You  also  mark  the  proper  places  for  the 
peaks  of  the  two  gables. 

Young  persons,  when  drawing  the  gable  ends  of  houses,  often 
find  it  difficult  to  make  the  two  sides  slope  alike.  This  is  because 
they  do  not  mark  the  places  for  the  peaks  properly.  The  proper 
way  is  first  to  draw  the  base-line  of  the  gable,  that  is,  a  line  across 
at  the  bottom  of  it  from  the  place  where  the  lower  end  of  the  roof- 
line  is  to  come  on  one  side,  to  the  lower  end  on  the  other.  Then 
halve  this  base-line,  and  make  a  faint  dot  in  the  middle  of  it. 
Then,  exactly  above  this  middle  dot,  make,  at  the  right  height, 
another  dot  for  the  peak  of  the  roof.  The  peak  of  the  roof  being 
thus  determined,  the  two  sides  can  be  drawn  correctly  without  dif- 
culty. 

When  you  have  determined  the  position  of  all  these  points  and 
lines  in  this  way,  you  can  then  draw  all  the  parts  of  the  building 
distinctly,  according  to  the  guides  you  have  thus  provided,  and 
every  thing  will  come  right. 

In  the  next  picture  you  have  another  subject  of  the  same  kind, 

which  will  afford  excellent  practice  for  those  who  are  sufficiently 

patient  and  persevering.     In  this  case  there  is  no  marked  point  in 

the  centre  of  the  picture,  but  there  is  a  horizontal  line  which  comes 

12  K 


146 


GROUPS    OF    BUILDINGS. 


Proper  mode  of  proceeding. 


View  of  a  house. 


GROUP    OF    BUILDINGS. 


very  nearly  in  the  middle  of  it,  namely,  the  eaves  of  the  main 
building  in  the  house.  You  first  determine  the  position  of  this 
line,  and  mark  the  places  where  the  extremities  of  it  will  come. 
Then  you  proceed  to  determine  the  limits  of  the  other  principal 
lines  in  the  same  way.  After  you  have  thus  determined  the 
places  of  a  considerable  number  of  points  and  lines  all  over  the 
picture,  you  can  proceed  to  put  in  the  intermediate  parts  in  a  cor- 
rect and  proper  manner.  In  this  way  you  will  find  that  you  will, 
in  the  end,  have  every  thing  in  its  proper  place,  and  in  its  proper 
proportions ;  whereas,  if  you  had  begun  at  one  side,  and  proceeded, 
without  any  determinate  points  to  guide  you,  across  to  the  other, 
you  would  have  made  a  very  distorted  copy  of  your  model. 


FUNNIGO.  147 


Drawing  figures.  Ellen  Linn  and  Annie. 


STUDY  XXXVI. 

FUNNIGO. 

It  is  easier  to  draw  buildings  and  landscapes  than  figures,  but 
the  art  of  drawing  figures  is  much  the  most  useful  accomplishment 
of  the  two. 

One  of  the  great  advantages  of  learning  to  draw  is  to  be  able  to 
make  pictures  to  amuse  children  with.  Older  brothers  and  sisters 
can  amuse  the  younger  children  in  this  way  very  much,  if  they 
have  learned  to  draw  figures  well,  and  can  invent  interesting 
groups  of  them.  By  this  means  you  can  not  only  give  your  youn- 
ger brothers  and  sisters  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  but  you  can  ac- 
quire a  great  influence  over  them,  and  this  influence  you  can  then 
turn  to  useful  account  in  a  great  many  ways. 

A  girl  named  Ellen  Linn  used  to  draw  pictures  in  this  way  to 
amuse  her  sister  Annie.  Annie  was,  in  a  great  measure,  under 
her  charge,  and  Ellen  used  to  draw  pictures  for  her,  as  a  reward, 
when  she  had  been  a  good  girl. 

Sometimes  Ellen  would  make  a  little  book  of  white  paper,  and 
write  a  story  in  it,  drawing  pictures  on  the  several  pages  to  illus- 
trate the  story.  Sometimes  these  pictures  were  comic,  and  then 
they  would  amuse  Annie  very  much  indeed.  Ellen  would  put  a 
cover  of  blue  paper  on  the  book,  and  sew  the  leaves  and  the  cover 
together  with  her  needle  and  thread.  She  would  then  write  a  ti- 
tle for  the  book  on  the  outside  of  the  cover. 

The  book  would  be  written  in  very  plain  handwriting — much 


148 


FUNNIGO. 


Ellen  Linn's  history  of  Funnigo. 


Father's  hat  and  boots. 


like  print ;  and  Annie  would  read  it  over  and  over  again,  and  look 
at  the  pictures.     This  taught  her  to  read. 

One  of  the  books  which  she  wrote  was  entitled  the  History  of 
Funnisro.     It  was  as  follows  : 


THE  HISTORY  OF  FUNNIGO. 

Once  there  was  a  boy,  and  his  name  was  Phonny.  As,  how- 
ever, I  do  not  wish  to  be  too  personal  in  this  narrative,  I  shall  call 
him  Funnigo. 

One  day  Funnigo  put  on  his  father's  hat  and  boots.     It  was 

when  he  was  about  five 
years  old.  Here  you  see 
a  picture  of  him.  He  is 
marching  about,  and  he 
makes  a  very  comical 
figure.  He  is  not  quite 
certain  whether  his  moth- 
er will  not  tell  him  that 
he  must  not  take  these 
things,  so  he  is  looking 
toward  her  to  see.  His 
mother  is  busy  at  her 
work,  and  does  not  yet 
notice  him.     He  is  wait- 

HAT   AND  BOOTS.  ing.     foj.      ^      t()      J^     up 

See  how  intent  the  expression  of  his  countenance  is  as  he  waits 
for  her  to  see  him.  He  is  wondering  what  she  will  say.  If  she 
says  nothing,  he  will  go  on  marching  about  the  room.     If  she  savs 


FUNNIGO. 


149 


Funnigo  and  Malleville  with  their  trumpet  and  drum. 


that  he  must  not  do  so,  then  he  will  go  and  put  the  hat  and  boots 
away.     He  found  them  in  a  closet  in  the  entry. 

Funnigo  liked  very  much  to  make  a  noise.  He  had  a  trumpet 
and  a  drum.  He  also  had  a  cap  with  a  feather  in  it.  He  used  to 
like  very  much  to  get  his  trumpet  and  his  drum,  and  march  about 
and  make  a  noise  with  them  in  the  shed.     In  such  cases,  he  would 

take  the  drum  himself, 
and  give  the  trumpet  to 
his  little  cousin  Malle- 
ville. 

Here  you  see  a  rep- 
resentation of  Funnigo 
and  Malleville  marching 
about  with  their  drum 
and  trumpet.  Malle- 
ville is  sounding  the 
trumpet,  while  Funnigo 
beats  the  drum. 

Funnigo  was  very 
careful  not  to  make  a 
noise  in  the  house  with  his  trumpet  and  his  drum.  This  was 
right.  It  was  also  wise  ;  for  his  father,  when  he  found  that  his 
boy  would  never  disturb  other  people  with  noisy  playthings,  made 
no  objection  to  his  having  as  many  noisy  playthings  as  he  pleased. 
When  children  have  no  discretion  about  the  use  of  noisy  play- 
things, the  only  way  is  not  to  let  them  have  such  playthings  at  all. 
One  day  Funnigo  and  Malleville  went  out  into  the  fields  to  take 
a  walk.     They  saw  a  butterfly. 


TRUMPET    AND    DRUM. 


150 


PUNNIGO. 


Funnigo  and  Malleville  looking  at  the  butterfly. 


"  Ah,  there's  a  butterfly  !"  said  Malleville.     "  Let  us  go  and  catch 

him  !" 

"  No,"  said  Funnigo,  "  we  will  not  catch  him,  for  if  we  do,  we 

shall  crush  him  in  our  hands  and  spoil  him.     We  will  run  along 

after  him  as  he  flies  through  the  air,  and  look  at  him." 

Here  is  a  picture  of  Funnigo  and  Malleville  running  along  after 

the  butterfly  to  look  at  him  as  he  flies  through  the  air. 

Funnigo  was  right  in 
not  wishing  to  catch  the 
butterfly.  It  is  a  great 
deal  better  to  see  birds 
and  butterflies  enjoying 
themselves,  flying  about 
where  they  please,  than 
catching  and  confining 
them.  Butterflies  are 
almost  always  killed  in 
being  caught,  and  birds, 
though  boys  may  some- 
times catch  them  with- 
out hurting  them,  almost 
always  die  in  their  cages 
before    they   have   been 


LOOKING    AT    THE    BUTTERFLY. 


long  confined. 

You  can  see  by  the  picture  that  Funnigo  and  Malleville  are  not 
trying  to  catch  the  butterfly.  They  are  only  pointing  at  him. 
Funnigo  is  pointing  at  him,  and  Malleville  is  pointing  at  him  too. 

"  See,"  they  say,  "  what  beautiful  spots  he  has  on  his  wings." 


FUNNIGO. 


151 


Ellen's  last  picture. 


Wading  after  pond  lilies. 


There  is  no  harm,  however,  in  gathering  flowers  when  you  see 
any  that  please  you.     Here  we  have  a  picture  of  Funnigo  wading 


out  to  get  some  lilies  that  he  saw  growing  on  the  surface  of  a 
pond.  He  has  taken  off  nearly  all  his  clothes  and  laid  them  on 
the  bank.  The  water  is  pretty  deep,  but  he  knows  that  it  is  not 
over  his  head,  and  so  he  is  not  afraid.  He  will  get  two  pond  lil- 
ies, and  he  wTill  give  one  of  them  to  Malleville. 
This  is  the  end  of  the  story  of  Funnigo. 


The  readers  of  this  book  will  find  the  pictures  which  Ellen  drew 
in  her  story  of  Funnigo  very  good  drawing  lessons  for  them  to 
copy. 


152  DRAWING    FIGURES. 


Additional  directions  in  respect  to  drawing  figures. 


STUDY  XXXVII. 

DRAWING     FIGURES. 

As  I  believe  I  have  already  intimated  in  a  previous  study,  it  is 
much  more  difficult  to  draw  figures,  like  those  which  Ellen  Linn 
was  accustomed  to  draw  to  amuse  her  sister  Annie,  than  buildings, 
or  any  other  forms  that  are  bounded  by  straight  lines  ;  still,  by 
attending  carefully  to  the  following  directions,  intelligent,  patient, 
and  persevering  children  will  succeed. 

In  drawing  figures,  you  must  proceed  in  the  same  way,  in  re- 
spect to  marking  out  for  yourself  limits  and  guides,  as  was  direct- 
ed in  the  case  of  a  group  of  buildings.  It  will  not  do  to  begin 
at  the  top,  and  come  down  regularly  to  the  bottom,  without  any 
thought  of  where  you  are  going,  and  how  you  are  coming  out,  as 
many  children  do.  You  must  consider  carefully  where  you  are 
going,  and  how  you  are  coming  out,  and  mark  your  way,  as  it  were, 
beforehand,  or  you  will  be  pretty  sure  to  go  wrong  and  to  come 
out  wrong. 

On  the  opposite  page  is  a  drawing  of  a  shepherdess  among  the 
mountains  tending  her  sheep.  Suppose  you  undertake  to  copy 
this  figure.     This  is  the  way  that  you  must  proceed: 

First,  you  must  consider  on  what  part  of  your  paper  you  will 
have  your  drawing,  and  then  touch  faintly  a  little  line,  in  the  prop- 
er place,  for  the  top  of  the  head,  and  another  for  the  bottom  of  the 
feet,  taking  care  to  determine  these  points  as  correctly  as  you  can, 
so  as  to  have  the  space  which  you  allot  for  the  whole  length  of 


DRAWING    FIGURES. 


153 


The  shepherdess  on  the  mountains. 


THE    SHEPHERDESS. 


154  DRAWING    FIGURES. 


Directions  for  drawing  figures.  Imaginary  lines. 

the  figure  on  your  paper  as  nearly  as  possible  the  same  with  the 
actual  length  of  the  figure  in  the  model. 

Then,  between  these  two  points,  observe  where  the  middle  of 
the  figure  comes  in  the  model.  It  is  very  nearly  at  the  lower 
edge  of  the  spencer  or  jacket.  Mark  a  faint  line,  then,  midway 
between  the  two  previous  touches  which  you  had  made  on  your 
paper,  and  that  will  denote  where  the  bottom  of  the  spencer  is  to 
come  in  your  drawing.  In  the  same  manner,  mark  touches  to 
denote  the  breadth  of  the  dress  at  the  bottom,  and  also  the  breadth 
of  the  wTaist  and  of  the  shoulders.  After  noting  in  this  manner 
all  the  most  important  points,  and  the  most  important  distances  in 
your  drawing,  you  can  then  draw  the  intermediate  points  far  more 
easily  and  correctly  than  if  you  had  proceeded  to  draw  the  whole 
at  random,  without  the  guidance  and  aid  which  these  preliminary 
marks  and  bounds  will  afford  you. 

Sometimes  you  can  derive  great  aid  from  imaginary  lines,  which 
you  may  suppose  to  traverse  the  figure  in  various  ways  Imagine, 
for  instance,  a  straight  line  drawn  perpendicularly  down  through 
the  forehead  and  chin  of  this  figure  to  the  ground.  It  would  pass 
through  the  centre  of  the  right  shoulder,  and  thence  down  through 
the  middle  of  the  dress,  coming  out  as  nearly  as  possible  through 
the  middle  of  the  right  ankle.  Now,  if  you  sketch  such  a  perpen- 
dicular line"  as  this  in  your  copy  of  the  drawing  while  you  are 
making  it,  it  will  help  you  very  much.  It  will  fix  the  place  of  the 
shoulder,  and  enable  you  to  draw  the  shoulder  correctly,  by  delin- 
eating half  of  it  on  one  side  of  the  line  and  half  on  the  other.  It 
will  aid  you,  in  the  same  manner,  in  drawing  the  dress,  and  it  will 
show  you  also  exactly  where  the  ankle  and  foot  will  come. 


DRAWING    FIGURES. 


155 


Illustration  of  this  principle. 


Teaching  a  dog. 


An  ingenious  boy  or  girl  will  easily  imagine  such  lines  in  any 
figure  which  he  is  attempting  to  copy,  and  he  will  derive  very 
great  assistance  from  them. 

Sometimes  these  lines  will  be  within  the  pictures,  and  some- 
times they  will  be  around  them. 

For  example,  here  is  a  picture  of  a  girl  attempting  to  teach  her 

dog  his  letters.  Imag- 
ine a  point  to  be  taken 
a  little  distance  above 
the  middle  of  the  girl's 
head,  and  that  from  this 
point  one  straight  line 
is  drawn  to  the  left, 
down   along  the  girl's 


back  to  the  ground, and 
another  to  the  right, 
down  along  the  dog's 
back.  These  two  lines 
would  make  two  sides 
of  a  triangle,  like  the 
letter  A,  only  they  would  open  somewhat  wider  at  the  bottom  than 
an  ordinary  letter  A.  Now,  if  you  were  going  to  copy  this  subject, 
it  would  help  you  very  much  in  the  work  to  sketch  two  such  lines 
. — very  faintly,  of  course — upon  your  paper,  for  they  wTould  showT 
you  exactly  where  the  back  of  the  girl  and  the  back  of  the  dog  were 
to  come.  In  the  same  manner,  you  might  imagine  a  perpendicu- 
lar line  drawn  down  in  the  middle,  between  the  other  twTo,  to  the 
ground  between  the  girl's  feet  and  thejdog.     This  line  w~ould  pass 


TEACHING    BRUNO. 


156  DRAWING    FIGURES. 


Use  of  guide-lines.  Various  modes  of  introducing  them. 

down  very  nearly  along  the  edge  of  the  figure  of  the  girl,  on  the 
right  hand..  It  is  true  her  forehead  would  project  over  it  a  little, 
and  so  would  the  lower  corner  of  her  dress  ;  but  such  a  line,  if  you 
were  to  draw  it  on  your  paper,  would  assist  you  very  much  in 
bringing  the  figure  of  the  girl  into  its  right  place,  and  making  it 
of  the  right  proportions.  You  can,  in  this  manner,  sometimes  im- 
agine a  circle,  or  an  oval,  or  a  square,  to  be  drawn  in  some  part 
of  your  model,  where  you  see  any  general  form  which  resembles 
either  of  those  figures,  and  then  sketch  very  faintly  the  outline  of 
a  similar  figure  in  your  drawing  as  a  guide.  Or,  if  you  do  not 
actually  sketch  it,  you  can  imagine  it  to  be  there,  and  the  very 
idea  will  aid  you. 

These  principles  are  of  universal  application,  and  the  more  in- 
genuity you  exercise  in  applying  them,  the  more  rapid  your  prog- 
ress in  drawing  will  be. 

There  are  a  great  many  more  instructions  that  I  might  give,  but 
I  am  drawing  so  near  to  the  end  of  the  book  that  it  is  time  to  write 
the  conclusion.  I  will  only  add  here,  that  if  you  wish  to  practice 
drawing  figures,  you  will  find  plenty  of  subjects  in  any  of  your  pic- 
ture books. 

In  looking  over  your  picture  books  for  this  purpose,  that  is,  in 
search  of  subjects  to  copy,  you  must  remember  that  it  is  not  nec- 
essary at  all  that  you  should  copy  the  whole  of  any  design  that  you 
find,  for  you  may  just  as  well  select  a  part  of  it,  such  as  a  single 
figure,  or  any  one  object,  and  omit  the  rest.  It  will  often  happen 
that  some  one  figure  in  an  engraving,  or  some  one  building,  would 
make  an  excellent  lesson  for  you,  when  the  whole  might  be  too 
complicated  and  difficult,  or  otherwise  unsuitable.     Suppose,  for 


DRAWING    FIGURES. 


157 


Julia  and  her  grandmother. 


Description  of  the  picture. 


example,  in  looking  through  your  books,  you  come  to  this  engrav- 
ing. It  represents 
an  unfeeling  and 
selfish  girl  disturb- 
ing her  grandmoth- 
er by  making  a  loud 
noise  with  her  trum- 
pet when  her  grand- 
mother is  reading. 
The  lady  is  sitting 
in  an  arm-chair  in 
the  centre  of  the 
picture.  She  is  try- 
ing to  read.  Her 
book  is  in  her  lap. 
She  rests  her  left 
arm  upon  the  elbow  of  her  chair,  and  shades  her  eyes  with  her 
hand.  Her  right  arm  she  extends  across  the  other  elbow  of  her 
chair  to  make  a  gesture  of  remonstrance  toward  Julia.  Julia  has 
a  trumpet  and  drum.  Instead  of  going  away  with  these  things  to 
some  remote  place,  where  the  noise  which  they  make  would  not 
disturb  any  one,  she  comes  to  her  grandmother's  room,  and,  point- 
ing the  trumpet  toward  her,  she  blows  it  as  loud  as  she  can,  on 
purpose  to  disturb  her.  She  is  doing  very  wrong  in  this,  and  her 
mother,  whom  we  see  coming  from  another  room  on  the  left,  will 
punish  her  severely. 

Now  the  whole  of  this  scene  would  be  too  difficult,  perhaps,  to 
draw,  but  there  are  portions  of  it  which  you  might  select  that 


AN    UNFEELING    GIRL. 


158  DRAWING    FIGURES. 


It  is  not  necessary  to  copy  the  whole  of  your  model. 


would  make  excellent  lessons.  First,  there  is  the  drum.  To 
draw  that  alone  would  be  an  excellent  lesson.  To  draw  the  oval 
properly  for  the  top,  and  the  convex  curve  for  the  bottom,  and  the 
cords  on  the  side,  and  the  shading,  would  be  excellent  practice, 
and  the  drawing,  when  finished,  would  make  a  very  pretty  object. 

In  the  same  manner,  the  work-table  on  the  right  would  make  a 
good  subject.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imitate  precisely  the  shad- 
ing as  you  see  it  in  the  picture,  but  the  outline  might  be  drawn, 
and  the  end  shaded  lightly,  so  as  to  give  it  a  very  pretty  effect. 
For  pupils  more  advanced,  the  figure  of  the  girl  would  be  a  good 
subject ;  and  others  still  might  undertake  the  figure  of  the  grand- 
mother. 

If  you  should  attempt  to  draw  the  figure  of  the  grandmother, 
you  must  follow,  in  doing  it,  the  principles  already  explained  in 
respect  to  limits  and  guide-lines.  Mark,  first,  the  place  of  the  top 
of  the  head,  and  then  that  of  the  feet,  so  as  to  determine  the  length 
of  the  figure  correctly  before  you  begin  to  draw  it.  Then  set  off 
the  breadths  of  the  figure  at  the  different  points — at  the  knees,  at 
the  waist,  and  at  the  shoulders.  If  you  get  all  these  points  well 
determined  at  the  outset,  the  rest  will  be  comparatively  easy. 

In  finishing  the  copy,  study  carefully  the  manner  in  which  the 
wrinkles  and  folds  of  the  dress  are  represented  by  the  shading. 

Thus  you  see  it  is  not  necessary  always  to  draw  the  whole  of 
any  engraving.  You  can  select  from  it  such  portion  as  suits  your 
purpose. 


CONCLUSION.  159 


Design  with  which  this  book  has  been  written. 


STUDY  XXXVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

This  book  has  been  written  with  the  design  of  interesting  the 
boys  and  girls  who  may  receive  it,  in  studying  the  engravings  and 
pictures  that  they  may  see,  with  a  view  to  understanding  them 
more  fully  than  they  have  hitherto  done,  and  so  deriving  a  higher 
pleasure  from  them.  The  instructions  which  have  been  given  you 
here  are  intended  to  show  you  how  to  look  at  pictures,  what  things 
to  observe  in  them,  and  how  to  understand  and  appreciate  them 
most  fully.  Those  who  shall  have  read  this  book  attentively  will 
find,  I  hope,  that  they  will  now  look  at  pictures,  in  some  measure 
at  least,  with  new  interest,  and  will  derive  greater  pleasure  from 
them  than  heretofore. 

In  fact,  one  of  the  chief  advantages  of  drawing  is  the  effect 
which  the  practice  of  that  art  has  in  training  the  mind  to  a  higher 
appreciation  of  the  beauty  of  forms,  and  thus  increasing  our  ca- 
pacity for  receiving  enjoyment  from  the  landscapes,  or  groups  of 
figures  which  we  behold  in  nature,  or  which  we  see  represented  in 
books  of  engravings,  or  in  galleries  of  pictures.  A  boy  who  has 
drawn  a  pump,  or  an  old  gateway,  or  a  log-cabin,  will  always  aft- 
erward look  on  such  objects  with  a  new  interest — one  that  he  nev- 
er felt  before.  He  will  see  a  new  picturesqueness  and  beauty  in 
them  ;  and  if  he  has  drawm  a  great  many  such  objects,  and  land- 
scapes and  buildings  of  various  kinds,  all  nature  will  soon  wear  to 
him  a  new  aspect.     He  will  look  at  the  drawings  which  others 


160  CONCLUSION. 


Advantages  oflearning  to  draw,  and  the  way  to  secure  them. 


have  made  with  increased  pleasure,  and  he  will  enjoy  his  walks 
and  rides,  and  the  views  which  he  obtains  of  landscape  scenery, 
and  of  the  groups  of  men  and  of  animals  that  he  sees,  far  more 
highly  than  ever  before. 

If  you  wish  that  your  taste  should  be  cultivated  and  improved 
in  this  manner,  you  must  draw ;  but  it  is  not  sufficient  to  make 
mere  mechanical  copies  of  patterns  set  for  you,  in  a  careless  or 
unthinking  manner.  You  must  study — you  must  observe — you 
must  compare — you  must  reason.  You  must  work  with  your 
hand  not  mainly  to  acquire  a  mere  manual  dexterity,  but  as  a 
means  of  maturing,  .developing,  and  defining  the  ideas  of  your 
mind.  It  is  to  give  you  some  instructions  in  respect  to  the  man- 
ner by  which  this  is  to  be  done,  and  more  especially  to  teach  you 
by  example  how  you  are  to  do  it,  that  this  book  has  been  written. 
I  hope  you  will  not  dismiss  the  subject  from  your  mind  by  merely 
reading  the  book,  but  that  you  will  put  in  practice  the  lessons 
which  it  contains. 


THE    END. 


